


Shelf Life

by Infie



Series: Mission Series 2: Manticore Burned [3]
Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Comrades in Arms, Deadline, Drama, Epic Friendship, F/M, Gen, Thriller, ticking clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-19
Updated: 2006-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 55,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/Infie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set several years after the conclusion of Cold War.</p><p>Transgenics are dying on the eve of their thirtieth birthdays. As Max returns to Seattle, the transgenics face their most implacable enemy: Time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelf Life

### Prologue

Garry breathed carefully through his nose as he extended into his deep knee bends. Stretching before going for a run was absolutely vital for maintaining one's proper conditioning. Even for people who were... physically gifted, stretching was a must. His very first pulled muscle had taught him that in no uncertain terms, and Garry was not someone who had to be taught something twice. No, sir. 

He rose, bent at the hips, and touched his hands to the ground. The gritty sand stuck to his fingertips, but he liked the pleasantly abrasive feel. He bounced a little, testing his flexibility. No strain through his back, neck, or hamstrings, though he could feel the slightest pull through the back of his knees. He made a mental note to work on his leg stretches. He returned to his full height. 

A set of torso and abdominal stretches later, he set off on his run. It was very early morning; he liked to get in his exercise in privacy, before the rest of the joggers hit the park. His feet found the rhythm immediately and he relaxed into the familiar routine of flex and release. His breathing was deep and perfectly even. 

It was a beautiful fall day, air crisp and with that crystalline clarity that only seems to come in October. The sun shone ferociously but was unable to warm the tartness of the atmosphere. It was perfect. 

The park blazed with fall colour, the deep red and the flaming red-orange of the sugar maple contrasting with the cerulean sky in a beauty that was almost painful. Garry grinned as he ran. Was there anywhere in the world as beautiful as this place in the fall? He didn't think so. 

The ground under his feet was ever so slightly softened by the previous night's rain, providing a surface that sprang a little with every step. He imagined the earth welcoming his footsteps, as happy at his presence here as he was, and laughed. He saw the hill in front of him, prepared to add power to his steps to make it up without reducing speed. 

The next instant, his legs stopped pumping. 

His momentum carried him forward and he crashed heavily, the ground he'd been considering a pleasant cushion only a moment before now a hard, painful landing place. He tumbled, ending up on his back staring up at that incredible sky. His mind cried out in confusion. What the hell? 

He tried to get up, but his muscles refused to respond. Refused to acknowledge the commands of his mind. Refused their commander. 

He didn't understand. He'd been running, just as he'd done every day since he'd been old enough to walk. Following his daily regimen, just as he did all the time. What the hell had gone wrong? 

He tried to blink. Nothing. 

The first thread of panic laced through him. He could feel his heartbeat racing... 

He was tired. So tired. 

He was already lying down. 

He could just go to sleep. 

It would be so easy. 

His heartbeat. Shouldn't he be hearing it? 

So tired. 

Shouldn't it hurt? 

Shoul... 

"Thirty-year-old male, looks to be a runner. Nice day for it." The uniform glanced at the brilliant sky and shrugged. "Found by a fellow jogger at about nine am." She looked back down at the beautifully defined body and shook her head sadly. "Just look at him... what a damned shame." 

"Yeah." The detective yawned. "With that dark hair and those blue eyes, he was a looker, all right. Still, dead's not really my style. I can't believe you'd call me down here to critique this poor bastard's good looks. Do you have reason to be thinking homicide?" 

"No, ma'am." The uniform crouched beside the body. "But you have to see this." She gestured with a blue-gloved finger. "You can see that livor mortis has begun but not yet set, right?" 

"Someone's been reading up." The detective reluctantly took a knee so she could see what the uniform was pointing at. "Yeah, I got it." 

"I returned him to his original position so we wouldn't lose this," the uniform said, rolling the body onto its side. "I moved him originally to check for wounds or something obviously wrong. Instead, I found this." Her finger trembled ever so slightly as she pointed to the man's hairline. 

The detective frowned, looked more closely. "Move to the left a little, Simpson... you're in the light." The uniform obeyed, and the detective sucked in her breath. "Holy shit." 

The neck was stained blue-purple by the pooling of blood after death. There was only a few inch-square patch where the neck curved to keep the skin off the ground, but what it revealed was unmistakeable. Although steps had obviously been taken to permanently obscure the evidence, likely a long time in the past, the ugliness of death had a way of bringing things to light. There, a faint black shadow against the purple, was a barcode. 

"Shit," the detective said again. "They're back." 

"I don't know, Detective," the uniform replied gravely. "Seeing this... I don't think they ever left." 

* * *

### Now

Alec leaned against the railing on the roof of what was once the transgenic headquarters in Terminal City, staring out at the lights of Seattle gleaming around him. He smiled. 

Seven and a half years. A long time since he'd given the order and they'd gone to ground. A long, long time. 

But a good time. 

He took a deep, cleansing breath of the damp air. It was raining, a chilling sleety drizzle appropriate for March. Trickles ran through his hair and ran down the back of his neck, tracing icy trails down his spine. He shivered. The black leather of his jacket creaked a little in that way that only well worn leather can. He shifted a little, settled it better over his shoulders. The trickle stopped. He heaved a breath, tilted his head back and let the rain fall against his face. The sky was a dull slate grey. 

Yep. It had been a long time. He came to this rooftop every six months, ostensibly to check the hidden satellite unit for messages and for mechanical difficulty. In reality, he came for the memories. Like those from all wars, they were bittersweet. 

His cell phone shrilled. He flipped it open, took a look at the picture showing the incoming caller. He grinned, tilted his face back into the rain. He brought the phone to his ear. 

"Logan! What's up, buddy?" 

"You know, it still freaks me out when you do that." Logan sounded disgruntled. "You could at least have stolen one for me too, you know." 

Alec tsked. "Stolen is such a negative term. I prefer 'set free'." 

"Of course you do. Perhaps next time you could 'set free' its mate too." 

Alec raised an eyebrow, looking askance at the sky. "Do phones mate?" 

There was an aggrieved mutter. Alec laughed. "Telephone existentialism aside, I need you to come in." Logan's voice turned uncharacteristically grave. "I, uh... I have some information for you." 

"Is the information at all related to anything that needs to be set free to wander on its own?" Alec licked the rain from his upper lip. 

"No." 

Alec straightened at the flat reply. "Ok," he said slowly. "I'm heading over." 

"Good." Logan's tone relaxed minutely. "I'll get out the scotch." 

"You do that. The good stuff, not that three year old crap you tried to get me to drink last time." 

"You got it." There was a pause. "Alec?" 

"Yeah." 

"Don't be too long, okay?" 

"On my way." He closed the phone with an irritable click. There was nothing like mysterious forbiddingly solemn phone calls to ruin a good mood. At least he and Logan had worked through their more personal difficulties after Max left. He smirked. The continuing transgenic blood transfusions had certainly helped that along. The transgenics needed Eyes Only's information and Logan's contacts in the police department. Logan had needed transgenic support to slowly regenerate his damaged spinal column. Once they'd gotten past Logan's hostility and Alec's boredom, they'd come to something neither had expected, ever. Friendship. Joshua was still laughing over that one. 

Justifications aside, Logan was useful in finding items requiring some tender, loving freedom from their owners. Alec provided just the kind of freedom the items needed. 

Lucrative freedom. 

Hey, a guy had to make a living! After all, it wasn't like they could send Joshua out on job interviews. 

Alec took a last long look around the rooftop. His jacket gaped a little at the back of his neck, allowing that icy trickle to trail down his spine again. He sighed. 

"Is there some good reason we're pickling ourselves in this downpour?" The laconic comment came from behind him. Alec whirled, a grin splitting his face. "Too slow, too slow!" Rhys chided him from his position, leaning against the doorjamb. "What if I'd been a bad guy?" He brushed non-existant dust off the sleeve of his black leather biker jacket. He'd shaved off the goatee. Fine silver traced through the black hair at his temples, but his eyes were as merry as ever. 

"I knew you were there," Alec said archly. 

Rhys made a rude noise. 

"I did!" 

"You did not." Rhys shook his head sadly. "To think, our fearless leader reduced to standing on rooftops in the rain, talking to the sky, blissfully ignorant of the potential dangers around him." 

"I was checking the satellite." Alec laughed. "And if you'd been here on schedule I could have just delegated." 

Rhys shrugged. "Blame Canada," he said. "They held us up for days in Toronto." 

It was Alec's turn to scoff. "That's called the playoffs, Rhys. They have them here, too." 

Rhys grinned at him unrepentantly. "But I don't have season tickets here." He pushed upright. "Besides, the nuns didn't want to let me leave." 

Alec rolled his eyes, walking over to the doorway and through. Rhys fell into step beside him with the ease of long familiarity. They trotted down the steps side by side. "Everything ok there?" 

"Yeah." Rhys nodded. His stride quickened ever so slightly. Alec matched him automatically. "Johan'll be back in a few days. Joshua's at the apartment, making sure the dogs survived your care." 

"Geeze." Alec groaned. "One little time. He's never going to let it go, is he." 

"Uh, no." Rhys looked like he was fighting back a smile. "He's really not." 

"How was I supposed to know that chocolate is bad for dogs?" He replied mournfully. 

"I don't think it was the chocolate so much as you throwing it out the window." Rhys laughed. 

"Hey!" Alec defended himself. "No one could have predicted that yappy little demon would have thrown herself after it." 

"Just be glad it was only one floor. If TeaCup had actually been hurt, Joshua would never have forgiven you." 

"It's enough that he refuses to let me live it down." Alec shook his head as they reached street level. "Have you ever tried to stop a Great Dane who knows what she wants?" He narrowed his eyes at Rhys' snicker. "Well, get back to me when you have." 

Rhys snorted. "So what's up?" 

"Logan's," he answered succinctly. "Then we have some work to do." 

"Cool." Rhys grinned. "I do love my job." 

Was it that Logan had come down in the world or up in the world? There had been so many peaks and valleys in the last years that Alec decided he couldn't really determine which it was. In any case, Logan's townhouse wasn't nearly as nice as his old apartment, but was a significant step up from Sandeman's ruins. The humble surroundings hid a communications network as complex as any short of the department of defense, though. 

"Hey!" Logan opened the door, confident on his own two unassisted legs. His need for transfusions was diminishing over time. His doctor expected another two or three would complete his treatment permanently. His smile was unguarded and genuine. "Rhys is back, too. Great... I made enough for an army." He laughed. 

Rhys and Alec exchanged a look at the lame joke. Logan's sense of humour tended to deteriorate in direct proportion with his nervousness, while his volume of cooking increased. This was a bad sign. They followed him inside. 

"What's up?" They wandered into the small but well stocked kitchen. Alec took a seat on one of the handy barstools. He took in the mountain of pasta with alarm. "I have the feeling that there's something you want to tell us." 

"Yeah." Logan looked around at the disaster of his kitchen and nodded. He sighed. "Yeah." His shoulders straightened. "Forget this. Come on into the office." 

Rhys raised an eyebrow, but refrained from comment as they trooped through the house to the basement office. Logan seated himself in front of the bank of monitors with the ease of long practice. He spun the chair to face his visitors. "Ok... you guys already know I provide new identities for transgenics as they surface or if they figure they're about to be outted. Well; I keep an eye out for mentions of those names." He flashed a self-deprecating smile. "I like to know how well the work is going over. About every four months I run a search to check." 

"Uh huh." Alec's brow furrowed. "It's not going over any more?" He ventured. 

"Hmmm? No! No; no problem there." Logan turned to the keyboard, hit a couple of keys. A set of photographs popped up on the bank of screens. "But I did get a disproportionate number of hits lately." 

Alec scanned the faces briefly. There was no one out of the six that he knew personally. He glanced at Rhys, who shook his head minutely. No recognition there either. "I don't know these people," he said. 

"These are all from the East Coast," Logan informed him. "Johan acted as the contact for all but one of these when he headed east. One came in on his own." He punched another key, and the photos were replaced by new ones. Rhys sucked in his breath, and Alec kept his face blank with an effort. Logan glanced at them, then spoke grimly. "That's right," he said. "The hits I got on these transgenics were from the morgue files. They're all dead, going back as far as six months." His lips compressed, and he hit another button. The photos disappeared. "All of these showed up on a cursory scan of the east coast newspapers. I'm running a deeper scan now." 

Alec nodded. "Anything yet?" He asked. 

"No. I don't even have a cause of death, other than 'not homocide'." Logan turned to look at him levelly. "But this has me worried." 

"We can tell." Rhys clapped him on the shoulder, swaying him in his chair. "Let's wait til after the scan though, ok, before we start freaking out?" Logan flushed a little. Alec's frown deepened. 

"I don't like this either." He rose and began to pace. "How long until you get some answers?" 

Logan shrugged. "A few hours at least." Rhys raised an eyebrow. "There's a lot of data to go through," he said defensively. 

"I didn't say anything!" Rhys grinned. 

"With that look you don't have to." Logan glared. He shifted his attention to Alec. "Feel like having that scotch now?" 

"No, but thanks." Alec shrugged his jacket back on. "I have a job tonight." He flashed a wicked grin. 

Rhys followed him eagerly. "So... What are we after?" 

"Well, hello ladies." Alec grinned broadly. Rhys peered over his shoulder with wide eyes. 

"Damn," he breathed. "I was sure it was a metaphor." 

"Nope." Alec replied happily. "I found it, and now it will be mine." He gave a mock-evil chuckle. 

"Don't you mean 'ours'?" Rhys shifted a little to ease tight muscles. He was, after all, holding up the granite and glass display case lid. A tremble started in his left bicep. "Geeze... How much does this thing weigh, anyway?" 

"I'm not sure. Say... two fifty?" Alec's brow furrowed as he concentrated fiercely on the fine tracery of wires linking the sacred object to its pedestal. 

"Two fifty? There is no way this is only two fifty!" A bead of sweat popped out on Rhys's forehead. He glared at the side of his partner's head. 

"Kilos." 

"Kilos!" He re-adjusted his grip. 

"Without the glass." Alec snipped delicately. 

"Withou... That's it! Next time, *I* am the wireman." He declared. "As an aside, you have about 30 seconds before this drops on your head." 

"Plenty of time." Alec clipped off the last few wires and gingerly lifted his prize from the case. Rhys started to lower the lid. "Wait!" Alec blurted. Rhys froze awkwardly, shaking with effort. 

"What?" He demanded. 

"Nothing." Alec smirked. 

"ARGH" Rhys settled the lid back into place just a little bit harder than he had to, then turned his best grim look on his friend. "You know, one of these days, someone is going to get you back for this." 

"That may be, but it won't be you." Alec grinned at him cockily, placing his take in the black duffel he'd brought along for that purpose. He turned on his heel and stepped back towards the black nylon rope dangling from the ceiling. His foot lifted high to miss the infrared beams crossing the room, pointed to miss the sensor plate in the floor. At the apex of the step, his balance wavered by the tiniest amount. He missed the right tile by a fraction of an inch. 

The room exploded with flashing lights and an earsplitting shriek of outraged alarm systems identifying an intruder. Both transgenics ducked instinctively, falling flat to the tile floor. Resounding clangs of heavy duty metal doors slamming into place over the doors and windows added to the cacaphony. 

Rhys lifted his head and fixed Alec with a stare that spoke volumes despite the pandemonium around them. "Why is it," he asked conversationally, "that when the gods decide to teach you a lesson, I have to attend the class?" 

"Obviously you are to blame for all my faults," Alec retorted. Abruptly the sirens and flashing lights stopped. He looked around tentatively. "What do you think?" He asked. "Maybe no one noticed?" 

"Well, say what you will about our boy... When he fucks up, he fucks up big." 

Looking around at the score of police cars, flashing lights, and shouting cops, Logan had to agree. "Yeah," he said and shook his head. "How are we going to get him out of this one?" 

O.C. looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "I don't think there's going to be much of us getting him out of anything this time. I don't think they're going to fall for 'The Feds coming in and and taking over' scam again." She flipped her hair back. "Not after the last time." 

Logan shrugged. The building was completely surrounded. It was only a two story affair, with an old stone front complete with grinning gargoyles. At least every second car had a roof-mounted spotlight, and every damned one of them was trained on the windows. "We could cut the power..." He sighed. "Each car has its own power source. Damn." He flipped open his cell phone. "Maybe Joshua knows someone in the area who can help." 

Rhys glanced out the window, wincing as the glare from one of the spotlights struck his eyes. "Oh, I think they noticed." 

"Would you please stop saying that?" Alec asked irritably. "I know that they noticed. It was immediately evident that they noticed. And every new car that shows up is just another bit of proof that they in fact noticed." 

"Yep," Rhys agreed gleefully. "They sure did notice." 

Alec ignored him manfully. "It's only a matter of time before they clue in and bring someone with the key to these doors. We need to get out of here before they show up." 

Rhys jumped down from his perch in the arch of the second story window. He landed gracefully in front of his partner. "Well, the upper deck is out," he said. "They actually have it pretty much covered this time. Double deep, too." He laughed. "I think they've gained respect for us." 

Alec's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, groaned at the sight of Logan's face. He clicked it on. "Yeah?" 

"Now this is a pretty mess," Logan told him drily. 

"Yeah, yeah. How about we just talk about how you'll get us out of here?" 

"Sorry, Alec. No can do." He sounded suspiciously cheerful. "You should see the mess out here... looks like someone on the force got a clue." 

"Great. Do you have any good news for me at all?" 

"Not really." He could hear the shrug in Logan's voice. "But we're here for you... I've already called Gem to have her ready to act as your lawyer." 

Alec shut the phone over Rhys' snort of laughter. He glared. "You're taking this awfully well," he growled. 

"I have faith that something will come up," came the equitable reply. "Soon." Rhys paused. "Or even now." He stepped aside. 

The floor where he had been standing imploded in a puff of dust and debris. A muted thunder rolled through the room, amplified by the excellent acoustics. 

Alec looked up from his newly prone position on the floor, head covered by his arms. Rhys was still standing, waving his hand in front of his face and coughing at the cloud of dust. Slowly Alec regained his feet, staring at the still smoking hole. "What the..." He breathed. A distinctive smell reached his nose just as a sleek dark head popped up out of the hole. "The sewers. Naturally." Alec extended his hand and gave an exaggerated groan. "Welcome home, Max." 

She sprang lithely through the hole, ignoring the wreaths of smoke dancing around her ears. Landed like a cat, too. Alec shook his head, grinning ruefully. Seems that some things never changed. 

"Max!" Rhys took a step and swept her up into a huge, bonecracking hug. She laughed, returning it with equal enthusiasm. A second mop of black hair poked through the hole, and Alec transferred his outstretched hand to help Zane clamber up. 

"Damn," Zane muttered, stretching. "I'm getting too old for all this." 

Alec gave a disbelieving snort. "How did you guys know to come here, anyway?" 

Zane held up a compact cell phone. No camera, Alec noted smugly. "Joshua called us." 

"Hardly the surprise we were aiming for, but it'll do," Max chimed in. She extricated herself from Rhys' cheerfully lecherous grip and turned to face him fully. Alec couldn't fight back the flutter in his stomach on looking at her. 

She'd matured, of course, as they all had. She'd cut her hair, too, so that it swung in a fine straight line just brushing her shoulders. A long midnight lock was tucked behind her ear, baring her face. She was tanned even more darkly than her usual caramel tone. Seven years had changed the shape of her face, tightening the skin over her classic bone structure. Her eyes were as dark and challenging as ever, still snapping fire at him. She'd dressed in a snug black catsuit for the occasion, and he could see the changes time wrought in her body as well. Wider hips, heavier breasts, an ever so slight rounding of her belly. She looked... beautiful. 

Zane's changes were more pronounced. His hair was the same glossy black Alec remembered, still cut short and touched with none of the silvering that frosted Rhys. His face had lost the roundness of youth, thinning into planes and angles more prounounced than before. He'd put on weight and muscular bulk, had grown into the breadth of his shoulders. He was taller than Alec by an inch or two, but likely outweighed him by fifty pounds. He looked formidable. 

Max was still waiting for his reply. A flash of uncertainty stained her eyes. Alec blinked. "It will do," he agreed hurriedly. She looked faintly disappointed, but masked it immediately. "Max," he tried again. "It's really good to see you." Her brilliant smile rewarded him. 

"We, uh... need to go," Rhys said from his renewed perch in the windows. "They're just about ready to rush the place." 

"Right." Alec nodded, picked up the duffle with the loot, and strode over to the hole. "Let's go." 

"A BRA?" Max's voice came close to squeaking with outrage. "Your heist was for a BRA?" 

"Not just any bra, Max," Alec sounded awed. "This is Madonna's pointy bra!" 

Max shot him a quelling look. "Yeah, Max," Logan added helpfully. "We have a buyer willing to pay fifty thousand for this." 

"Fifty thousand!" Alec hadn't thought her voice could go any higher, but it did. "Must be a man," she added with disgust after a moment. 

"It is," Logan agreed with a grin. "A pervy old fellow, too. But his money's good, and we need it." 

Max rolled her eyes and turned away. The men exchanged looks and grins. "I saw that," she muttered. 

They'd gone to the apartment shared by Alec and Joshua (and whatever transgenic required temporary lodging). A long, hot shower later, Alec was certain that it would take him another seven years to get the smell of the sewers out of his hair again. The others had followed suit with about the same success, and Alec fought the desire to wrinkle his nose. The dogs, he noticed, had no such restraint. Several had buried their muzzles beneath their paws. Teacup had taken one whiff and left the room entirely. Joshua hadn't even done that much. He'd smelled them on the stairs and had hurriedly exited through the fire escape, rattling off some excuse about visiting the Humane Society shelter over one immense shoulder. If only the damned water authority hadn't decided that it was the perfect time to flush the system! All his cat burglar clothes would need to be replaced. He scowled darkly. Not to mention his good boots. It was hard to get good boots! 

"How soon can we get paid?" He asked Logan. 

"Within a week," Logan responded. 

"Good." His share would cover the rent for a few months, plus food for them and the dogs, and replacing his gear. A time of no worries, coming up. Tension he hadn't even realised he was carrying eased in his shoudlers. Rhys joined them from the kitchen, carrying mugs of steaming hot chocolate for all of them. Zane emerged from the bathroom, water still clinging to the skin and dark hair on his powerful chest as he rubbed his hair briskly with the towel. 

"Hot chocolate?" Max sniffed delicately. Apparently they were forgiven, because she sauntered back over to the sofa to snag her cup. She sat beside Zane on the loveseat, leaving the space beside Alec for Rhys. 

Alec fought back the pang of disappointment. {It's been seven years, 494... get over it already!} He thought darkly. "Hey, Logan... Isn't it about time for that search to be done?" He asked to distract himself. 

Logan looked at his watch. "Another twenty minutes," he said. 

Zane and Max perked up. "Search? Sounds interesting. What are you looking for?" They asked almost in unison. Logan's face turned serious. 

"We found some reports of some... er... dead transgenics," he said softly. "We're looking to see if it's an isolated event or what." 

Max paled, and Zane flushed under his tan. "Dead transgenics?" They exchanged a look Alec couldn't read. 

"Yeah. Several." Logan nodded, though his eyes sharpened as he picked up the byplay. "On the East Coast, so far." He paused, then added casually, "You guys been out that way lately?" 

Rhys' eyebrows rose at the question, but he contented himself with a sip of his hot chocolate rather than comment. 

"No." Max and Zane had both relaxed at the mention of the location. "No... we've been just southeast of here for the last few months." Another exchange of those unreadable looks. Zane gave a minute shrug, but Max shook her head a little in response. Zane sat back, his entire bearing indicating his leaving it to her. He sighed and wrapped strong fingers around his own cup, taking a long drink. When he looked back up Alec was watching him evenly. He shrugged again. Rhys and Alec traded looks of their own. 

Answers would be coming soon. In more ways than just one. 

"So, what brings you two to Seattle?" Alec decided to cut the bull and head straight to the point. His after all this time hung unsaid in the air between them. 

Max bit her lip and glanced at Zane, who nodded at her encouragingly. "I... I wanted to tell you in person." Her eyes sought Logan. "You're safe now." 

A heavy silence fell on the heels of her words. Rhys looked carefully blank. Alec's heart stopped in his chest. After all this time... could she be here to get back together with Logan?? To tell her one time (current!?!) love that it was safe for them to be together? Sure, he and Max had been over for years, but seeing her with Logan again would kill him. He was sure of it. 

Logan blinked, then cleared his throat, studiously not looking at Alec. "Max," he began cautiously, "it's been a long time... A lot has changed..." 

"A long time, I know," she nodded. "But I wanted you to know you don't have to live in fear any more." 

Now Logan did look at Alec, confusion plain on his face. "Fear?" 

"Max, what are you talking about?" Alec asked. He needed to hear it from her own lips. 

"Adam is dead," Max said, dark eyes turned liquid with unshed tears. "You don't have to worry about him relapsing and coming after you." 

"Ad- Oh, Max." Alec closed his eyes. "Max, I'm so sorry." He looked at Zane, who was staring intently at a spot on the floor, throat working. "Zane, I'm sorry, man." 

"Zack's dead." Logan sounded stunned. He looked worse. "Zack... Jesus, Max! How?" 

"I don't know," Max shook her head, her black hair falling forward and hiding her eyes until she brushed the lock back behind her ear. "Adam was the first one we vaccinated, and when we dropped by that first time, he asked us to come back sometime. We never broke cover; he just thought we were transient workers. We'd drop by every couple of years for a few months. This time we'd been there for... what, Zane? Three months?" Zane nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor. "One day, we went down for breakfast, and Adam never joined us. He just never woke up." 

"We figure one of the implants must have stopped working. Run out of power or something," Zane said hoarsely. "Christ... we'd just started to get to know him again. But after all the things Manticore did to him, we couldn't give him over to be autopsied. To be taken apart again." He shook his head. "Better to not know than to let him be violated even one more time." 

Rhys rose and placed his hand on Zane's shoulder, eyes shadowed by remembered pain. Alec knew he was thinking of 511. "I'm sorry, man." He said simply. 

Zane looked up at him, eyes wet. "Me too, Rhys." Max placed her hand on his arm comfortingly, and he pulled her into a brief one-armed hug. 

To Alec, the whole tableau looked vaguely surreal. Logan, still staring off into space in shock, the three transgenics bound together in their grief, and him... He didn't know what he felt. He'd liked Zack, had respected him. He felt terrible for Max and Zane. But his mind was full of his losses, 511, Mole, Rachel... He brought himself back to the present with an effort. "You made the right decision," he said. Max nodded an acknowledgement. 

Logan visibly shook himself. "Damn," he said softly. He stopped there, apparently unable to find any other words. 

An earpiercing scream shattered the awkward silence. 

Alec found himself on his feet, looking around wildly for the source of the cry. Rhys had gone into a defensive crouch, and was looking towards Joshua's bedroom. Zane had stiffened in place, and Logan was sitting bolt upright. If he'd been a cat his hair would have been standing on end. And Max... 

Max had just appeared at the door to Joshua's room. She must have blurred to have reached there so fast. She was cradling a mass of blankets to her chest. 

The wail cut off as abruptly as it had begun, followed by a soft snore. 

Alec padded over on silent feet, looking at the bundle in Max's arms intently. A tiny face rested against her shoulder, and an equally tiny foot poked out from the edge of the blanket where it lay against her hip. 

"So, Max. I guess we forgot to ask." Rhys broke the silence blandly. "What's new?" 

Zane snorted with amusement. He raised his hand over his shoulder and Rhys slapped it without even looking. 

Logan's eyes were wide. "Max?" He asked incredulously. "Is that a baby?" 

Alec just waited patiently, eyes never leaving Max's face. She flushed, then went for her familiar refuge... anger. 

"No," she snapped at Logan. "It's a child. He's four." 

"Four?" Logan spluttered. "Four???" 

"What?" Max demanded, albeit quietly. "Your hearing went when your legs came back?" 

"Max." Zane's softly reproving voice brought her up short. She looked over at him, then down at the sleeping face. She flushed darker, in embarassment this time. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "Yes, he's four." Her dark eyes finally came to meet Alec's calm hazel stare. "He's Adam's son," she said by way of explanation. 

Alec nodded his understanding. 

Rhys strode over to take a look. "He's a good looking boy," he said gently. Max smiled. 

"It's those good X-5 genes," she replied with a quick glance at the little boy's face. "Noah's great." 

Logan had recovered, and grinned widely. "Zack had a son? Wow." 

Alec's eyes dropped to Noah's face. He reached out and tentatively traced the curve of the sleeping child's cheek with one finger. Noah sighed and snuggled deeper into Max's embrace, thick black lashes fanning against his lightly tanned skin. He blinked, then raised his head to find Max watching him. He smiled. "He's beautiful, Max. And loud." The grin took the sting out of the observation. 

Rhys nodded his agreement over Alec's shoulder, catching Max's attention again. "He still has nightmares," she explained quietly. "He needs a few minutes of cuddling before he can go back to sleep." She flashed a brilliant smile. "Zane and I take turns." 

As one, Logan, Rhys, and Alec turned to stare at Zane... the least motherly person any of them could imagine. The one-time mercenary and self-admitted devious bastard spread his hands and grinned disarmingly. "It's the least I can do for my favourite nephew," he said tranquilly. Again as one, the others snorted. "What?" He looked offended, unfurled himself from the couch, and made his way to the little knot of bodies in front of Joshua's bedroom door. He smiled at the little foot peeking out of the bundle of blankets and tucked it back in tenderly before deftly lifting Noah out of Max's arms. The little boy snuggled his face into the side of Zane's neck, snuffling contentedly. Zane held him with the ease of evident practice. He raised an eloquent eyebrow before returning to the darkness of Joshua's room on silent feet. 

Alec shook his head with a grin. He'd never have believed it, but Zane was a natural. Max was looking after him with an enigmatic smile of her own. Alec felt his chest tighten, and hurriedly turned away to return to his seat. He ran into Rhys, who didn't step back quite quickly enough. Rhys kept them on their feet with a grunt. "Hello," he said brightly. "Am I in your way?" 

Alec rolled his eyes. "Only if you count standing directly in front of me." He retorted. 

"Hey.. it was directly behind you til you decided to run me down," Rhys complained goodnaturedly, rubbing his ribs. A quick jab with two fingers into his middle moved him aside neatly. "And, ow!" He muttered. Alec stepped past him and took his seat. 

"Serves you right for getting between me and my hot chocolate," he said, taking a drink of the aforementioned beverage. It was cold. he sighed. 

Zane reappeared at the door of Joshua's room. He gave a long look behind him before easing the door shut. "He's fine," he told Max. She relaxed and returned to the sofa. He joined her. Alec watched the ease with which they communicated and sighed again. Time had a way of changing things, he knew. All too well. Logan caught his eye and gave a wry, subtle shrug that told him they were thinking the same thing. He closed his eyes and shook his head with a self-deprecating grin. 

"Why do I feel like I just missed something?" Max looked at them suspiciously. 

"Cause you did, naturally." Rhys dropped onto the loveseat beside Alec with his usual exuberance. Max gave him an annoyed glare when he didn't elaborate. 

"Just reminiscing, Max," Alec soothed. Her frown deepened. 

Logan's watch chimed, making him jump. 

"Aha!" He said. "Search is done. Let's see what we have." 

"Sweet jesus." Alec breathed. He knew his face was white with shock; he'd felt the blood drain to his toes, followed by his stomach. A quick glance away from the computer screen showed identical reactions from the rest of the group watching the screen. "Can that be right?" He heard the pleading note in his voice and closed his eyes. 

"I'll double check." Logan was barely audible. "But... I think it's right." 

Rhys stood abruptly, pushing away from the screens. "I think I'm going to be sick," he announced flatly. 

"So many..." Zane dropped to one knee, voice faint. "Jesus..... jesus." 

"Alec, what's going on here?" Max's hand was over her mouth, her eyes standing out starkly in her face. 

"I don't know." He replied, running his hands over his face before facing the stark results from Logan's search. "Yet." 

"Total hits: 86." Logan sounded stronger, but no less stunned. 

"Eighty-six dead transgenics in the last six months, USA wide." Rhys echoed. "I can't believe they'd all be accidental." 

"No, Rhys." Alec corrected softly. "Eighty-six X-5 deaths USA-wide." He pointed at a second statistic, further down the screen. "That's the figure for transgenics overall." 

Rhys placed a hand against his gut. His caramel skin had turned a sickly gray. "One hundred twelve?" He moaned and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. 

"Eighty six." Max puffed her breath out. "That's almost a third of the X-5s, Logan. In six months? That can't be right." Alec could hear a thread of hysteria lurking in her voice and stood to place his hand on her shoulder. The eyes she turned on him were blank. "It can't be right, Alec." 

"Please check it again, Logan." Alec requested flatly. He hugged Max against his side, trying to provide a reassurance he didn't feel. "Rhys," he said when he could talk again. "Could you make some coffee? Strong coffee?" His eyes flicked towards the computer screen before skittering away. "I don't think any of us are going to be sleeping tonight." 

"Tonight?" Rhys gave an incredulous laugh as he headed for the kitchen. "I may never sleep again." 

"Sure you will," Zane had regained some of his equilibrium. He made his way to the sofa and sat. 

"If you say 'you'll sleep when you're dead'..." Rhys threatened from the kitchen doorway, "you'll find yourself there faster than you planned." 

Alec's lips twitched at the gallows humour so typical of soldiers. Max was not amused. He recognised the signs and forestalled her. "You'll sleep when I tell you to," he interjected. 

Rhys laughed. "And you say you're not suited for command," he retorted. The distinctive sounds of the coffee maker starting underlay his words. 

"Well, I can command you." Alec grinned. 

"Teacup could command him," Logan said, tapping at his keyboard. The Great Dane woofed softly from her position in the doorway of Alec's room at the sound of her name. 

"Teacup could command any of us," Rhys muttered as he re-entered the room with a steaming cup of creamy coffee. "Just watch her at dinner time." 

Logan and Alec nodded their agreement in unison. Zane glanced at the enormous dog. "I'll take your word for it," he said. Max came to sit beside him, leaning against his bulk automatically. Alec winced as he reflexively took too large a gulp of his coffee. 

"Anyone else want some?" Rhys came back with his own cup; a mug that read 'If sarcasm is a tool, just call me Master Craftsman'. A present from Logan. 

"Me," Logan waved absently. "Hazlenut, please." 

"What? Now I have to make a new pot cause you like the frou frou flavours?" Rhys faked a stagger of shock. 

"Yes," Logan said, snapping his fingers. Teacup rose and obediently crossed to his side where she regarded Rhys with a silent, intent stare. Rhys groaned, but headed back to the kitchen. 

"Teacup does have what it takes to command," Max said. Alec choked a little on his mouthful of coffee. She smiled at him ruefully. "I've changed a bit," she said in response to his surprise. "Mellowed, one might say." 

Alec winked at her. "One would be right," he said. "Looks good on you." 

Zane glanced between the two of them before taking a breath and pushing Max a little to get enough room to rise. "I'm going to help Rhys," he said. "Hazelnut sounds good." 

"The chocolate cinnamon is better." Logan tossed over his shoulder. "But if you get that, Teacup expects you to share." The dog lay down, settling heavily across Logan's feet. He patted her massive head. 

"I'll.. uh.. keep that in mind." Zane said uncertainly. He retreated to the kitchen. Low mutters and laughter soon followed as he and Rhys began to argue over the right way to wring the best flavour from the beans. 

Max settled into the spot Zane had left vacant, looking around the apartment. Alec watched her examine the walls, biting his lip. It was the first time they'd been afforded anything close to privacy, and he searched for a way to break the awkward silence. He sighed, then shrugged and crossed the space to sit beside her. "Hey Max," he said with a smile. 

She blinked, but looked at him. "Hey." She smiled back. 

"It really is good to see you," he told her. 

"Yeah," she nodded brightly. They lapsed back into silence. 

"So..." Alec tried again. "You and Zane?" 

Max looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Zane?" She laughed out loud. "No... no. Never." She shook her head. "He's my brother, and a great father for Noah, but no." Alec fought to keep the unexpected wave of relief he felt from showing, though from the way her eyes sharpened he didn't entirely succeed. "What about you, Alec?" She asked with a slight edge in her tone. 

He smiled into her eyes. "You know me, Max," he said smoothly. "There's enough to go around." 

She grinned back involuntarily, rolling her eyes. "Modest as ever," she noted. 

"Naturally," he agreed. 

"Hate to interrupt," Logan said, turning his body around in his chair. His feet were still trapped under Teacup. Rhys and Zane came to the door of the kitchen. The coffee maker dinged the completion of its task. Logan's face was grave. "I've completed the verification sweep." He rubbed his eyes. "It's for real." 

"And it's worse than we thought." 

"Worse?" Rhys echoed plaintively. "Not worse, Logan. C'mon... I've had my bad news quotient for the day." 

Logan shot him a sympathetic glance. "I know how sensitive you are, Rhys, but seriously..." He now looked at Alec. "I ran Canada too, since so many of you went North for the amnesty." He took a deep breath. "There's fully a third of the transgenics who went North down too. Whatever this is, it's not location-specific." 

"Oh," Alec muttered darkly. "Is that all? I thought we had a problem or something." He buried his face in his hands, muffling his next words. "How? How are they dying? There has to have been at least some autopsies." 

Logan sighed. "There are a few obvious murders, some typical violence, a couple of deaths in combat for people who stayed in the military." He spun back around in his chair to check his screen. "There's a cluster of transgenic deaths in Montana about three months ago; all hand to hand combat-type stuff. Otherwise, the cause of death listed in each case seems to be the same whether there is an autopsy done or not." He paused, turned back to face them head on. "Cardiac arrest, cause unknown." 

Alec stared at him as if he'd grown two new heads. "Cardiac arrest? You can't be serious. Transgenics? We're not capable of having heart attacks, Logan. Check it again." 

Logan frowned at him. "I did check it." 

"Then check it again!" Max poked her finger at the screen emphatically. "That can not be right." 

"Oh, that's not all." Logan told her sardonically. "It gets even worse than that." 

Rhys sat down abruptly, right there in the doorway. "I don't want to know," he said distantly. "I don't want to hear any more bad news." 

"Oh, yeah." Zane hauled him back up by one arm. "That'll make it all go away." 

Rhys sighed. "Hope springs eternal." 

"Unlike the effectiveness of being undercover," Logan said. "It seems that a trangsgenic in Michigan died in the middle of his morning run. The problem is that his barcode showed up after his death." 

"OK." Max shrugged. "We told the government that we'd be disappearing. It's not like we tried to cover it up." 

"But the government never told the people." Logan's gaze was steady. "The general populace just kind of thought you all left for Canada. Well, the truth is out." He paused, checked his screen. "Or rather, it will be at about 5 am tomorrow morning." 

"Shit." Alec buried his head in his hands. "That is worse." He heaved a deep breath, ran his fingers rapidly over his face, then stood resolutely. "OK. We need to mobilize on this. Logan: We need a full list of names of the dead. All of them, not just the 'cause unknowns'. Let's run a location on all our folks worldwide, get them checking in. Rhys: Call up Sketchy. Get him working on a story we can put out on the Familiar virus and the 'transgenic cure'. And keep the coffee coming." He flashed a grin at his friend, who looked unimpressed. "Logan; we'll need to pull Eyes Only out of retirement, too. Get ready." He looked at Max and Zane. "We'll all be reviewing the list of names. And manning the phones when the calls start coming. We need to make sure everyone's eyes are open." 

"Open, looking for what?" Rhys withdrew a flat camera cell from his pocket and flipped it open. Logan noted the tiny lens and shot Alec a narrow-eyed glare he pretended not to see, though his lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. 

"Anything out of the ordinary." 

"Fair enough." He wandered away disappearing into the room he occupied while in town, punching numbers into the phone absently. "Yo, Sket-chay!" The door closed. 

"We need to think about this," Max said thoughtfully. "There is no way this is all a coincidence." 

Zane nodded. Alec jerked his chin at him. 

"What have you heard from CSIS about this?" He asked. "Surely Canada hasn't missed that their per project is dying off?" 

Hot colour moved under the skin of Zane's cheekbones, darkening the fair skin. "I... uh... left them," he said after a moment. "Just under five years ago." He shifted a little. "Some things came up, meant I couldn't stay in the business." 

Alec nodded slowly. "Ok," he said. His eyes held Zane's steadily. Zane looked away first. "You still have any contacts you can hit?" 

"Sure." He stood. "I'm on it." 

"All right guys," Alec took the first sheet of names as they began to roll out of the printer. "Checkpoint in one hour." 

Four hours and three checkpoints later, the room looked like a blizzard had struck. Paper was littered across every available surface as various theories had presented new flurries of printouts. Everyone was sprawled across what furniture they could find, staring at the ceiling. 

"Well, fuck." Rhys said conversationally from his position lying flat on his back on the floor. "I can't believe we've been at this this long and haven't got anything." 

"Oh, we have something," Alec muttered bitterly from the sofa. "We have an awful lot of dead transgenics." He rolled his head to glare at Logan. "How the hell did this many people die without us noticing?" 

Logan shrugged helplessly. "You guys have never been very good at checking in on time, Alec..." He said. "A couple of months late isn't that unusual." 

"It was this time though, wasn't it?" he snarled, jacking himself to his feet. He paced angrily over to the computer, looming over Logan. Logan just looked at him blandly. 

"Evidently so," he agreed. He glanced around at the rest of the room and rose with elaborate calm. "Look," he said into the silence. His face was taut with strain. "Unlike all you genetically empowered superbeings, if I'm going to be chasing all these ghosts again tomorrow, I need to catch some sleep. I'll be in Rhys' room if you need me." 

Rhys watched him go enviously. "I can't believe he's going to be able to sleep," he muttered. 

"Well," said Alec coldly. "Since you're up anyway, get to work." He waved his hand at the pile of papers. "Check it again." 

Rhys shrugged eloquently and sat up, sweeping his arm and dragging a set of papers in front of him. 

Alec paced the length of the room over and over, muttering under his breath. Rhys and Zane watched him, exchanging uncertain looks with each other. 

"I saw that," he snapped without looking. "I'm not going crazy... I'm just thinking out loud." The other two remained silent. He glanced over, then heaved a sigh and dropped into the loveseat, planting his heels on the coffee table and leaning his head against the back of the seat. "Ok," he said. "I am going crazy. Commit me so I don't have to think about this anymore." 

"Is that all it takes?" Rhys' voice was hoarse with fatigue. "Sign me up." 

Zane shrugged his shoulders, pain creasing his features as the stiffness registered. "Just show me where," he said. 

"There must be something we're missing," Max offered. 

"You think?" Alec bolted to his feet and returned to pacing, unable to keep still. Max glared, but he ignored her angry eyes with the ease of long-lost practice. He shook his head. "The only thing I can think of is that there's a virus or something... something we haven't seen before." He grimaced. "Something that someone like Ashkovich might cook up. But he's dead." A look very like pleasure crossed his face. "Very dead." 

Zane raised his eyebrows, opened his mouth, then apparently thought the better of it and remained silent. 

"What?" Rhys caught the movement and rolled his head to look at him more fully. "What, Zane?" 

Zane blinked, then finally shrugged again. "I was just remembering Ashkovich," he said. "And wondering if all the stockpiles were destroyed." 

"They were," Alec said firmly, his eyes distant with memory. 

Zane opened his mouth again, then nodded and just said, "Ok." 

"What?" Alec asked with annoyance. 

"Well..." Zane rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What about the back office? It didn't have any samples, but it did have a lot of notes..." 

Alec stared at him. "Back office?" 

"Yeah.. off the main room, two doors down." 

Alec's brow furrowed as he strove to recall the layout of the place. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "But there wasn't much left." He looked at Rhys with inquiry. 

"I was unconscious," Rhys muttered. "I spent a lot of time unconscious that trip." 

"Taking one for the team," Zane grinned at him before the dark look he got in response reminded him that he's been on the 'other' side of that conflict. He shifted uncomfortably. "Anyway," he continued brightly. "If there was any information on any bio-weapon anywhere in the world, Ashkovich kept it there." 

"Would he have had anything on transgenics?" Max asked. "We weren't exactly common knowledge back then." 

Zane looked at her like she'd sprouted two heads. "How do you think Manticore paid him for his assistance in the first place?" He asked sarcastically. "China patterns? They handed over the full blueprint." 

Alec looked at him sharply. "All of it?" He asked incredulously. 

"Every last sequence," Zane replied. "Several years out of date, but still up to about the X-2 level." 

"Damn," Rhys breathed. "And we left it behind?" 

Alec shook his head. "No," he said. "No... we wiped that place out. Sterilized. There's no way anything could have survived." He glanced at the intent faces surrounding him, waiting. "You're right, you're right, we need to be sure." He surrendered. His eyes stabbed Rhys and Zane. "You two are going to have to go back and look." 

"Could you please remind me why we're in this gods-forsaken place?" Zane yelled over the sound of the Jeep engine as they bounced energetically over the rocky ground. His mirrored sunglasses reflected the savagely shining sun that beat down on their heads. A white t-shirt was stretched tightly across his chest, showing off the bunching muscles as he held on for dear life. 

White teeth flashed in Rhys' dark face. He handled the Jeep with practiced skill and an unholy glee at Zane's discomfort. A baseball cap was pushed back on his head. "I blame you!" He shouted back. "It was your brilliant observations that got us here." He switched his concentration back to the roadway. 

Zane lay his head back against his seat with an exaggerated groan. "You know, last time I was here, I was only happy to leave. I have the feeling that this time, I'll be jumping for joy." 

Rhys' lips compressed briefly. He blinked behind his sunglasses. "Last time I was here I was dying," he muttered to himself, quietly enough to be masked by the engine. Zane flicked him a glance and clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically. He flushed as he realised he'd been overheard. 

"I remember," Zane said. "God, we were young." He laughed. After a moment, Rhys grinned too as his habitual good nature chased the shadows from his face. 

"Were we ever," he agreed. 

[Focus, gentlemen.] Alec's voice sounded simultaneously in the earpieces they both wore, making them jump and exchange embarrassed looks. [You're almost there.] 

"Damn, Alec, warn me before you do that!" Rhys said darkly. "I think you just took years off my life!" A rude noise was his only response. He echoed it. "Look, it's not my fault you couldn't come, you know!" 

[I know, I know.] There was a silence. Rhys waited patiently, a smile playing around his lips as he counted to himself. On one, there was a long-suffering sigh. [I hate getting stuck back here out of all the fun,] came the grudging admission. 

Zane squinted up at the blazing sun. "Damn," he said. "You should have told me earlier... I'd have happily given up my spot." He glanced at his shoulder, mournfully noting the reddened flesh there. "I burn, you know!" He glared at Rhys' smug look. "Shut up, tan man." 

[You're the one who knows the full layout of the underground compound... Andrei.] Alec retorted mockingly. 

"Yeah, yeah.. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut." He heaved a sigh. 

Rhys gave him a commiserating look. "I wish I was back home, too. Still, you did the right thing to tell us, man." He said. "If there's any chance at all of transgenic technology lying around out there, we need to check it out." 

A long suffering sigh came over the earpieces. [I don't think you're going to find anything,] Alec muttered darkly. [511 really kicked the shit out of the place.] 

"Yeah... we need to be sure though," Zane replied. "I just don't like being away from Noah for so long. I've never been away from him before." 

Rhys nodded his understanding. There was a long silence from the earpiece. Finally Alec broke it. [Don't worry too much,] he said. [I've got your back.] 

"Thanks, man." Zane said softly. "I appreciate it." 

[Alec, out.] 

Alec stared at the colourful but less than enthralling communications equipment. He hated sending Rhys and Zane out without him, though he knew they could handle anything short of a nuclear warhead. Still, that basic instinctive protective response he had for Rhys had never entirely faded, despite all the years of sending him out on the mini-missions he and Logan devised. Just the mention of Uzbekistan had all those reactions buzzing again. He closed his eyes against the memory of 529 chained to a metal table, dark bruises spreading over broken ribs... 

"Hey!" Max placed a hand on his shoulder, starting him out of his reverie. "The guys get there ok?" 

"Yeah." He nodded, coming back to himself with an effort. He grinned down at Noah's face peeking around Max's hip. "Hi, Noah," he said. 

"Hi, Uncle Alec." He replied with an answering gamine smile. He pressed his face harder into Max's leg, dark lashes fringing eyes shocking in their green-kissed hazel lightness against his tanned skin. Zack's eyes. "Do you know where Papa is?" He asked innocently. 

"Papa's out with Uncle Rhys," Max answered gently disengaging him from her leg and ushering him back towards the main room where Logan was once again diligently crunching data. "Go play on Logan's computer, honey. If you're good he may even play against you!" Alec lifted an eyebrow at Max as Noah obediently headed back to the main room. Teacup raised her head and whuffed contentedly as Noah began to stroke her head. 

"Papa?" He asked. 

"Noah asked if he could call Zane Papa," Max explained with a shrug. "He wanted to be sure he was in a family." 

Alec blinked and nodded. "Ok," he said easily enough. She gave him a quick smile and turned. He caught her arm. "Hey, Max," he said gently. "I'm sorry about Syl and Brin." 

Max's eyes turned liquid with grief. "I know," she replied with equal softness. "Me too. Brin... we never really got back together, to get past everything that happened. And Syl," she shook her head. "I called Krit earlier... he didn't know where to reach me to let me know. Adam was our common point of contact for so long..." She blinked rapidly, shook it off. "I'm going to visit him when this is over." She fixed blazing eyes on him. "Because it is going to be over." He opened his mouth. "And it will end *well*." He closed it with a smirk. She rolled her eyes at him. 

"Hey, guys?" 

"Yeah, Logan?" Alec was loath to interrupt the moment of cameraderie. 

"Come back in for a minute?" Logan sounded a bit strained. 

Max offered her hand to help him get out of the chair. After a moment, he took it. Her skin was as smooth and silky as he remembered, warm and solid in his hand. 

"Thanks," he said, standing and releasing her. "I appreciate the help. Getting old, you know." 

Her dark eyes glinted merrily at him. "I'd race you in," she said, then blurred into a dark streak that rematerialised beside Logan's chair. "But I'm already here!" She crowed. 

Alec shook his head and made his way to the computer by more conventional speeds. "I coulda taken you," he said. 

"In your dreams," she scoffed. 

He leaned close, til his breath puffed against her cheek. "You have no idea," he whispered, his voice a dark dare. She shivered. He watched the goosebumps rise on her arms with a devilish grin. She glared. 

"Alec," Logan interrupted softly. "We have another five, yesterday and today." 

Instantly the cheerful mood was gone. Alec cursed violently then glanced apologetically over at Noah playing with Teacup and another of the dogs. Noah looked up and smiled, turning back to the dogs as they bowled him over in their enthusiasm. When he curled into a ball, the back of his neck showed above his shirt. A black, perfect barcode peeked out. 

Alec froze, eyes fixed on the evidence of the child's X5 genes. A tiny part of his brain filed the number away for reference while the much greater portion fought to comprehend the leap of logic he'd made. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

"Alec? You okay?" Logan poked him in the side. "Snap out of it, man... you're freaking me out." 

"Sweet Jesus," Alec breathed. Max followed his eyes and frowned. He spun on his heel and lunged for the computer. 

Logan, in the way, fended him off. "What?" He demanded crossly, righting his chair with an effort. He found himself neatly to one side as Alec typed madly. 

"Alec, what is it?" Max asked, snapping it. 

He stood abruptly, raking a hand through his hair. He swallowed hard. "Logan," he said hoarsely. "I need another printout of the dead." He held up his hand as Logan looked at the reams of paper already strewn around the room and opened his mouth to object. "Not the names this time." The eyes he turned on his friend were haunted. "I need a list of the codes." 

"Well, we're here!" Rhys hopped out of the Jeep and stretched hugely. Zane followed more slowly, looking around intently. 

"Doesn't look like anyone's been here for a while," he said. 

"A long while," Rhys agreed, kicking a nearby piece of rock idly. "Though it doesn't take long for this kind of terrain to reassert itself. He shrugged and set out for the broken cliff face that delineated where Ashkovich's compound had been. "I seem to recall being dragged that way," he pointed. 

"Nah," Zane grinned at him. "We brought you in through the service entrance, over there." He indicated a barely discernable depression to the right of what had been the main entrance. "You didn't rate the big door." 

Rhys clapped a hand over his heart in mock distress. "Lo," he said dramatically. "I am wounded to the quick!" 

Zane shot him a bemused look. "You," he said seriously, "read too much." 

They probed the area around the known entrances carefully. There was no sign of any attempts to get inside. 

"Looks good so far," Rhys muttered to himself. "That means something's going to go wrong any second." 

"Yeah," Zane rubbed a hand across the back of his neck wryly. "I've got the heebie jeebies too." 

Rhys raised a superior eyebrow. "I," he said disctinctly, "do not get the heebie jeebies." 

"Too bad," Zane grinned. "I think they're fun." 

Rhys stared at him, not quite sure how to take that. Zane laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Let's try 494's route in instead." 

The media storm broke later than predicted. 

But when it did, it was everything they'd expected it to be. 

"OK," said Logan, tossing the Times aside onto the small pile of newspapers beside his chair. "That's two reasoned responses, and..." He glanced at the much higher stack on the other side. "Eighteen votes for flat out hysteria." 

"Great." Alec groaned. "Glad to know the really effective people are in the majority." He lifted his mug, a gift from Rhys titled 'Mission fucking accomplished'. It was empty. He gave it a dark look. "Why is Rhys never around when I actually want coffee?" 

Max appeared at the door to the kitchen, steaming carafe in hand. "Because he figures you need to be able to take care of that yourself." Unimpressed at his derisive snort, she filled his cup and then her own. "Quit growling at me cause your chick is out of the nest," she told him tartly. "He'll be home soon." 

Noah's tousled dark head poked out from Joshua's room, followed immediately by the rest of him as Teacup shouldered him out of her way. "Yeah, Uncle Alec," he piped up in his childish treble. "Papa and Uncle Rhys are going to bring me presents when they come back, too!" 

Alec's face immediately softened into a wide smile. He put out his arms and Noah ran over to him, clambering into his lap for a good-evening welcome awake hug. Joshua followed him out, yawning hugely. "Welcome back," Alec said dryly. 

Joshua sniffed elaborately. "Smells better here tonight." He gave his wide smile. "Mostly." 

Alec shifted, placing Noah's knees in a more... comfortable location. "Wimp." 

The door to the apartment opened. A tall figure stood in the doorway, dressed head to foot in black. The blond hair glinted in the overhead lights, and the ice-blue eyes sparked with a warmth that belied their colour. A newspaper was rolled in one hand, and eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of the small body cuddled on Alec's lap. 

"Well," Johan said in his silky deep voice. "Exactly how long have I been gone, anyway?" 

Joshua grinned widely and huffed his pleasure, buffeting Johan on the shoulder and rocking the smaller man on his feet. "Welcome home," he said. 

"Too damned long!" Alec rose, carrying Noah easily in one arm. "You were supposed to get back days ago." 

"Yeah, well..." Johan shrugged elaborately. "Season's tickets, you know." He waved the newspaper before tossing it contemptuously on the pile. "Glad to know we're celebrities all over again!" Noah's wide eyed look got a smile. "And you are?" 

"Noah." He held out a small hand that Johan shook solemnly. 

"This is Uncle Johan, Noah." Alec told him. "He's here for you to play with!" 

"Cool!" Noah's eyes lit up even as Johan looked dismayed. He launched himself out of Alec's arms to land solidly within Johan's. "Do you play Bloody Murder? Uncle Logan won't play with me anymore." 

The look on Johan's face escalated into outright alarm. "Uh, no..." He began with a pleading glance at Alec. 

"That's okay. Noah here can teach you." Alec beamed at his friend. "Use my room. I set up a network in there." 

"And I can show you how to fire all the guns, and ..." Noah's voice faded as Johan accepted the implicit order, despite the glare he gave his friend on the way past. A faint ping from Rhys' room had Logan following him. 

"I have to go again," Joshua announced. "Joshua has a showing tonight!" He bared his teeth happily. 

"Uh..." Max looked a little worried. "Is that a good idea? With all the news and such?" 

"It's ok, Max." Seven years had done wonders for Joshua's speech. "My peeps take care of me." 

"Your ... peeps?" She asked faintly. 

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of yet another transgenic, a young man of about 20. "Hey Josh." The youth stuck his head in the door. "Come on, they're waiting." Joshua hustled out the door with a smile and a wave. 

"Who was that?" asked Max. 

"Dalton." Alec flashed a grin at her manifest shock. "Cleans up pretty good these days." 

Max pursed her lips in appreciation. "I'll say," she agreed. Alec watched the perfect curve with a helpless fascination. She saw his gaze and rubbed a hand over her face. "Did I have a crumb?" 

"Alec?" Logan's voice was muffled by the door to Rhys' room. "Can you come here a minute?" 

Alec tore his eyes away with an effort, blinking. "Yeah," he replied a little too cheerfully. "On my way." He stepped past Max, carefully not quite touching, and made his way to Logan. 

Logan sat cross-legged on Rhys' king size bed, laptop perched precariously on two pillows in front of him. The mini-printer had a spool of printed paper bulging beside it. Logan ripped off the printout and handed it over. "The list of codes in the same order as the names," he began. "I placed the live transgenics in black." 

Alec glanced at the list, all too liberally sprinkled with red ink. He tossed the paper back on the bed after the most cursory of glances. "I need a sorted list, buddy," he said. 

Logan looked at him steadily. "I know that," he said with elaborate patience. "I'm ordinary, not stupid." 

Alec waved a hand in apology, and Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. 

"Look," he said. "When you see this... well. Just don't flip out, okay?" 

"I already know what I'm gonna see, bud." Alec held out his hand in demand. It was not entirely steady. "Might as well hand it over." 

Logan hesitated, then shrugged tiredly. "Not like I'd keep it from you anyway, Alec." He reached under the pillow and brought out a second printout. Alec closed his eyes as he grasped it, taking a deep breath before looking. 

The sheet of numbers was feet long. Alec could see two things at first glance: The list was in numerical order, and fully the first third of the list was a solid, unrelieved red. He scanned the list rapidly. 

The breath whooshed out of his lungs and he sat down hard on the edge of the bed. Sharp pain blossomed in his lip and he realised he'd bitten it. The bitter-salt tang of blood flooded his mouth. "Well, shit." He muttered when he could speak. "I was hoping I was wrong." 

"Nope." Logan set the laptop aside and uncurled with an effort, his anxious eyes never leaving Alec's face. "We should have seen it sooner... I don't know how I missed it. I'm sorry." 

Alec waved away the apology. "None of us saw it... probably because we're so goddamned sensitive about these fucking serial numbers." He stood abruptly, picked up Rhys' cell phone from the dresser and flung it across the room with all the strength he could muster. It shattered violently, showering the room with tiny pieces of plastic shards. Logan didn't blink. 

"Huh," he said tilting his head a little. "You know, you could have broken mine... woulda given me an excuse to finally get a camera one." 

Alec stared at him blackly. 

"Ok, ok. Not funny." Logan's eyes dropped back to the list. He rubbed his chin, dropped his hand back to his lap with a sigh. "We're losing about three a day," he said flatly. "All of the X-series through the X-5s are gone, except Joshua. We're now about a third of the way through the X-5s." He paused. "Your guess was right. It's definitely related to the codes. Everyone is dying in order... within a week of their 30th birthday, based on the hacked records we have from the DoD backups of Manticore databases." 

"Zack's implants didn't fail." 

"I don't believe so, no." Logan faced him, unflinching. "He died three days after his birthday." 

Alec's jaw worked as his mind raced. It all made sense now; a terrifying elegant sense that screamed 'Manticore'. "Fuck!" He couldn't keep it in; he punched the wall. 

"You've seen the list... you know what it means..." 

"Of course I know what it fucking means, Logan. I have eyes in my goddamned head." 

"I don't understand, man," Logan broke off that line of discussion and continued, ignoring Alec's furious rejoinder and the new hole in the wall despite Max's wide-eyed peering through the new 'window' to the living room. "Why would they set something like this up? Why would they deliberately plan on destroying such valuable assets?" 

"We've reached the end of our peak operational efficiency," Alec replied tonelessly. "There should have been years of classes after us, thousands of replacements. They wouldn't need us. We're too old. What the hell else were they going to do? Wait for us to kick off of natural causes at about, oh, a hundred fifty years old?" He laughed, a bitter, bleak sound that made Logan wince. "After all," he bit out, "Who the fuck wants a bunch of geriatric transgenics around?" 

"I do," Logan told him firmly. 

"Great," Alec shot back. He wrenched open the door, tearing it right off of the top hinge. "Glad to hear it. But you know, I don't think you have a vote." He stormed out, slamming the front door behind him. 

Johan and Noah stuck their heads tentatively out of Alec's room next door. Max's face was pale. "I think he took that well," said Logan into the silence. 

Johan glanced at the door to Rhys' room, supported forlornly at a drunken angle by its single surviving hinge. "Could have been worse," he agreed blandly. "He could have trashed my room instead." 

Alec stood on the Space Needle, thinking of how many times and how many ways he had found himself right in this very spot. Right here, staring out over the lights of Seattle. He turned his head towards the ocean, seeking the cool blackness instead. The bitter damp wind rocked him on his heels, matching the bleak chill in his chest. The list was crumbled in his fist. He didn't need to look at it again to know what it detailed, but he couldn't bring himself to let it go yet either. 

He took a deep gasping breath, fighting the desire to howl with rage at the sky. The air cut into his throat, startling him into a coughing fit. He staggered back a step lest the wind catch him again and throw him right off the edge. 

Fat lot of good he'd be to everyone dead. 

The thought made him laugh in the middle of another cough. The resulting spasm turned into a bizarre choking-giggling combination that sounded alarmingly like hysteria. 

"Alec?" Max grabbed his arm as he teetered, pulling him even further from the edge. "Jesus, be careful!" 

Alec swiped his face, regaining control with effort. "Sorry, sorry," he managed. "Swallowed wrong." He took a big breath, then another. Everything seemed to be working right again. "What are you doing here, Max?" 

"I knew you'd head here." She released him, turned to study the city lights. "Wow," she said. "I'd forgotten how beautiful it is." 

"Yeah." He tightened his fingers around the crumpled mass of paper, stared harder into the empty blackness of the ocean. 

"I meant the lights." 

"I didn't." 

"Hmmm." Max glanced at his profile, swaying a little as the wind gave an extra buffet. She licked dry lips. "Logan told me what you found." 

"It sure explains a lot." He replied tonelessly. 

"Yeah," she followed his gaze across the water. 

They stood in silence. Alec shifted, bit his lip, winced as the previous hurt made itself known again. Finally he broke. 

"Did he tell you everything?" He asked softly. 

"Everything?" 

"About the list." 

Max blinked. "He explained that we've got some kind of kill-switch bitch happening," she said slowly. 

Alec lifted his hand, unfolded the paper with gentle, deliberate movements. He smoothed it against his chest, handed it over. Frowning, she took advantage of her enhanced sight and a brief break in the clouds to scan it rapidly. "It's a list of barcodes," she said. "Everyone starting before 33156 is dead." She choked a little at the length of the list. "Logan explained that." 

"And it's progressing at a rate of about three a day," he said flatly. "Though not every day." 

"Yes, and of course it isn't like there is a transgenic for every number, so we're heading up the line pretty fast." She was still confused. Alec wasn't surprised; he hadn't given her any good information yet. But he was finding it hard to handle... Her sudden gasp brought him around to face her. "Alec..." Her eyes raced again across the paper frantically. "Jesus, Alec... don't tell me you're next!" Her face was stark white against the dark. 

"No." He reassured her expressionlessly. "No, based on the quoted timeframes I have about six months." 

"Then...?" She was confused again. 

He leaned over, traced down, tapped a long finger hard against one of the lines. She read it just as the clouds slid back together, eliminating the thread of light. "331561084529." She got the last out in a rush, then looked at Alec in incomprehension. "What?" 

"Rhys." Alec told her flatly. "It's Rhys." 

"Rhys..." Max breathed the name shocked. "I never knew his designation." She swallowed hard. "I always thought he was younger than you." 

"Surprise." Alec took back the paper, crushed it viciously in his fist. "His birthday is twelve days away." 

"That doesn't give us much time." 

Alec fought back the wave of gut wrenching fear that threatened to overtake him every time he thought about that. He almost succeeded. "No. No, it doesn't." 

"Are you going to tell him?" 

"As soon as he gets back." Alec flicked a glance at the sky. 

"I'm sorry, Alec... I know what he means to you." Her voice was thick with sincerity. 

"Sorry, but I don't think you do, Max." He took a deep breath, took the plunge on the other reason he'd sought solace up in the clouds. "Since we're already knee-deep in painful subjects again, Max," he spoke into the darkness, carefully not looking at her. "Why did you leave?" 

She stared at his profile, startled by his bluntness. "You know why I left, Alec..." 

"That's not what I meant." He cut her off, turned to face her directly. His eyes bored into hers intently. "We agreed. Eighteen months, catch up with all your brothers and sisters, then you were going to come back." He swallowed. "You were going to come home. I need to know what happened." 

She turned her back, stepped to the edge and stared unseeingly over. "You already know the answer to that, too." She said, voice brittle in the breeze. "I'm sure that devious mind has already figured it all out." 

There was a long silence. Alec watched the tight line of her back. There was a tension running through her shoulders that spoke of nervousness. Fear. He took a long step after her, lay his hand on her shoulder and kept it steady when she flinched. "Maybe I want to hear it from you," he said. There was a faint thread of something in his voice that even he couldn't name. "Maybe you owe me that much." 

"Fine." She shrugged off the hand, spun to face him. Tears glittered in her dark eyes, trembling on the edge but not quite falling. "You really want to know?" 

"Yes," he said thoughtfully. "I think I really do." 

"Fine," she growled. She turned her back to him again. "We'd been gone roughly eighteen months. Zane and I were making our sweep through the west coast and midwest, checking in on everyone on our way back here. You remember. We were talking every week. I was looking forward to coming home." Her voice was tight, controlled. Alec nodded at her back, feeling the tension slipping into his own shoulders as her narration went on. "Our last stop before Seattle was Montana, to see Adam." She took a single convulsive step forward, further away from him. 

"Go on." He didn't recognise his voice. It sounded... strange. 

"We were so stupid, Alec. So stupid." He'd never heard her sound so defeated before. "We thought Manticore had fixed us, when we were there. Fixed Adam..." Her voice paused, her shoulders hunched in. She continued in a whisper. "Fixed me." Her shoulders snapped straight again defiantly. "They didn't." 

Alec heaved a breath as the final piece snapped into place in his mind. Oh, Max. He thought with something close to despair. 

"When we got there, Adam was so happy to see us, Alec. It was wonderful to see him so alive. So happy." She brushed a hand roughly over her cheek. "It was only a few hours after we got there that he started saying he felt hot." She took a deep breath. "We wondered if there was something going around, since I'd started running a fever too..." She stopped, swayed. Alec reflexively put out his hand, fingertips inches from her back. He bit his lip and withdrew, letting her continue her own way. 

"Two years since Manticore burned down. Two years since we left." She swallowed so hard he could hear it. "Two years since my last hormone control shot. And two years since Adam's." Another sigh as she braced herself to say it out loud. "We weren't sick. We were in heat. Zane tried to intervene, but it was... too late." 

"Noah," Alec said. 

"We found out within a couple of weeks that I was pregnant." She confirmed tonelessly. 

"And so you stopped calling." He fought to keep the censure from his voice and knew he'd failed. 

"I did." She whirled to face him. "Christ, Alec! I was pregnant! By my brother! Sure, it's not a genetic relationship, but still..." She shuddered violently. "Heat always made me feel so soiled... I couldn't ask you to handle that. Any of it." 

"But you asked Zane." Alec told her evenly. His chest felt tight with the effort of controlling the conflicting emotions. "And he did it, too. He left CSIS, he left behind a life he liked, to be a father to Noah for you." 

"He's my brother," she shouted. "Of course I asked him! I knew he'd come through. He loves me..." She broke off, staring at his suddenly frozen expression. 

"And I was what, Max? Just your boyfriend? Just your 'lover'?" He shook his head, struggling to maintain the icy calm he'd thrust over the turmoil and biting back the rest of the words. *What a fucking day.* He took a deep breath. "Look," he said with elaborate distinctness. "I don't begrudge you Zane. God, how could I? But..." He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he knew all the pain he'd felt... still felt... was naked in them. "You could have trusted me, Max." He leaned forward, continued even more softly. "You should have trusted me." 

He turned on his heel, leaving her staring after him, and left. 

Logan looked up from the com centre as Alec stalked back into the apartment. His expression blanked as he noted Max's absence, but he remained silent. 

"What's going on?" Alec demanded curtly. He was obviously working to be civil. 

"They've assessed the site; no obvious avenues of entry." He replied carefully without inflection, listening closely to the headset. "Zane has an idea." A pause. "They're going in." He lifted an eyebrow, looked at Alec questioningly. "'494's' route mean anything to you?" 

Alec's lips quirked despite himself, a glint of genuine humour in his eyes. "Hook me up a spare set," he said, gesturing at the headphones. "This should be... entertaining." 

Zane led the way. Through the debris field, into the hills surrounding the compound. He stopped after about a kilometre and gestured upwards. Rhys blinked, followed the pointing finger with his eyes. 

"What?" 

"The duct," Zane said. "It's up there." 

"The duct?" Rhys echoed incredulously. "I thought we'd be taking the big-assed hole that the tank made." 

"The whole room collapsed," Zane explained patiently, running his hands over the cliff face and testing the handholds. "If we want to get to the storerooms, we'll need to take the ductwork." He started up. 

"Shit." Rhys followed, feet finding the small cracks in the rock that provided purchase. "How big was this vent, anyway?" 

"I dunno." Zane shrugged as he reached up for the next handhold, sending a small shower of pebbles down onto Rhys. "Not very." 

"Oh." He continued climbing, joining the other man on a small ledge. The vent cover was already removed. "Joy." He heaved a sigh, glancing at the opening. 'Not very' was quite small indeed. He brushed himself off with rapid, jerky strokes. 

"What's up?" Zane watched him curiously. 

"Oh, nothing..." Rhys studiously did not look again at the duct. "I just have a little... thing... about small spaces. Nothing big." He cleared his throat, stripped off his bandolier and weapons harness. The body armour was next. Zane followed suit, his eyes never leaving Rhys' face. 

"I thought you were a solo specialist?" He said. "Didn't you have to pass some set of fucked up proficiency tests?" 

"Yeah." Rhys nodded. "I got trained out of it." 

"Sure." Zane looked unconvinced, but shrugged with elaborate unconcern. "How about I go first?" He offered. "Just in case the vent's collapsed." 

Rhys paled. "Oh, that's a reassuring thought." He muttered. 

Zane hid a grin and moved to the opening, flashlight in hand. He stretched, entered with a grunt. "Damn." His voice was muffled by his body. "Tight fit." 

"I hate you." 

Zane's answering laugh echoed faintly. "Looks clear," he said. "I can see the openings for several rooms. We won't be trapped." He paused. "Unless you get stuck, that is." His feet disappeared into the duct. 

Rhys crouched, arranged his gear and then entered the vent. He glared at Zane's feet in front of him. "Hey," he said conversationally, "If I kill you and block the tunnel, at least I can still get out." His breathing rasped harshly in his throat and he tried desperately to ignore the knowledge of the crushing weight of rock poised over his head. 

And under his body. 

And on all sides. 

Right. There. 

Jesus. 

"But then we won't get to see if the storeroom is still there." Zane's voice broke the spell, and he sucked in a deep breath as he realised he'd stopped moving. The air filled his ribcage and he felt the vent briefly touch him all the way around. A new surge of panic was fought back with practiced difficulty. "Got the heebie jeebies yet, Rhys?" 

"Fuck you." 

Zane laughed. 

"You won't be laughing when I catch you." 

"Uh huh." Zane knocked out the mesh covering the opening on his right. "Main room," he said shortly before continuing to the next one. 

Rhys glanced in as he inched his way past. The brief sensation of open air on his face made him feel marginally better, so he paused to breathe a little. The room was absolutely trashed, the roof largely caved in. Zane was right; the hole made by 511's tank was completely filled in by debris. It would have taken them ages to dig through. The walls were blackened where they could still be seen above the tumbled rocks. He fought back the full-body shudder of distaste that the room triggered. The instinctive, visceral hatred surprised him. He blinked hard, trying to look at the place through impassive eyes. An image of the place as it had been, undamaged, swam in front of him and his eyes cut automatically to the left where 494 had been held while the virus raged through him. He blinked again, laughed incredulously. "Hey, Andrei," he said. "The cage is still here." 

"Great," Zane replied dryly. "I'm sure Alec will be thrilled to hear it. Given how attached they once were, and all." 

"Yeah." Rhys ducked his head back into the tunnel, humour running out of him like water. Now the brief respite made the cloying blackness worse, not better. "Yeah." He heaved a breath, beat back the panic, started forward again. 

Zane bashed the next mesh cover off with a single blow from his elbow, took a quick look. "Corridor," he said shortly and continued to the next vent. 

The corridor was open to the main room, and its sides were sooty where the fire and the phosphorus rounds had raged. "Sterilized," Rhys muttered from the depths of some faint memory. 

"Pretty effectively, too," Zane agreed from two meters ahead of him. 

Rhys became aware of a deep hum that had been thrumming through the rocks since they entered. It was so low and so soft he'd almost missed it. "Hey... are you sure the power's off in here?" He asked suddenly. 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"Cause that sounds like a generator... and you're just about to that switch that 494 tripped..." 

The click was terribly loud in the silence. Rhys froze, waiting for the crackle of electricity. 

"Don't worry," said Zane, continuing along the duct without pausing. "I disconnected that circuit when I hid the remote to the cage. Couldn't have the defences active if I was going to use the ventilation system to escape, after all." 

Rhys released his breath explosively. "Prick," he gritted when he could breathe again. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He blinked it out of his eyes. 

Zane laughed. He looked through the latest screen, on his left. "Office," he said, knocking the cover loose. "Looks damaged.. that's good news. Let's check it out." Fingers gripped the edge of the opening as he curled himself out and dropped lithely onto the rubble covering the floor. 

Rhys stuck his head out, looked around. The office was damaged, as Zane had noted, but was still largely intact. It bore the same fire scoring as the other rooms had. Several file cabinets lined one wall, their sides warped from what had to have been a terrible heat. Zane shoved the door closed roughly, checking the area behind it closely. Rhys grabbed the edge of the vent opening, leaned over his arms, and started pull himself into the curl that would swing into a neat somersault to the ground. 

[I'm back, guys.] Alec's voice sounded in their ears, making them both start violently. Rhys' fingers spread in shock, and he tumbled to the floor with a distinct lack of his usual grace. 

"Argh!" All his breath left him in a heavy grunt. 

Zane bit back a laugh, turned away. 

"Bastards." Rhys wheezed, glaring up at the ceiling and waiting for his chest to work normally again. "You're both bloody bastards." 

[You're not the first to say so.] The laugh in Alec's voice proved his timing had been no accident. [Get up, lazybones... tell me what you see.] 

Rhys rolled to his feet, disdainfully ignoring the hand Zane held out. "It's a room," he said less than helpfully, scanning it briefly. "Filing cabinets. No desk, nothing else. Except a big prick." 

Zane flashed him a wicked grin, heading for the closest filing cabinet. "You're not the first to say that, either." 

"Who says I meant you?" 

[Measure later.] Alec's voice was back to business. [What's in the files?] 

Rhys pulled the handle on the nearest filing cabinet. It resisted, and he placed his other hand on the frame of the cabinet and put some muscle into it. The drawer gave with a shriek of protest. He gave an extra wrench and it broke loose, spilling to the floor. "Empty," he said curtly, looking into the next one through the hole in the cabinet. "Also empty." He grabbed the top of the stack and rocked it. The whole row moved. "Feels like they're all empty." He started opening all the other drawers anyway, pulling them out and checking them for hidden information as well. Zane took the other side. 

[I can't tell whether I'm relieved or disappointed.] Alec paused. [There's really nothing?] 

"Nope." Zane kept shuffling through the drawers. "Looks like we had nothing to worry about. Must have all been incinerated." 

"Ash." Rhys interjected succinctly. He finished his row, leaned comfortably against the last of his cabinets. "There's no ash." He met Zane's startled look calmly before returning his gaze to scrutinizing the floor around the cabinets. "Looks to me like we were too late." 

[And I thought this night couldn't get any worse.] Alec sighed in their ears. [Ok, ok... look around. See what you can find. Maybe you'll get lucky.] 

As Zane opened his mouth to reply, Rhys' head came up sharply and he gestured his partner to silence. He straightened, stepped to the door on cat-quiet feet. A faint click on the earpiece heralded another comment from Alec that he forestalled with a soft, sharp hiss of breath. Immediately Zane came up the other side of the door, leaning close as well. 

A subtle scrape of rock had them both tensing further. There was silence. They exchanged cautious looks, then Zane shrugged minutely and lifted an eyebrow. Rhys nodded, placed his hand on the door knob, counted off with his other hand. 

One, 

Two, 

Th... 

The door exploded inward, bullets stitching upwards through the centre. Rhys and Zane threw themselves backwards in unison, ending up sprawled on their backs, staring at each other with identical looks of shock. 

[What the fuck?] 

"Yeah, buddy," Rhys gasped. "You said it." He and Zane exchanged a glance, then bolted to their feet and raced behind the cabinets together. He stared at a still-smoking hole in the metal now shielding them. "You know," he said, "These are way more bullet proof when they aren't, well, empty." 

Zane snorted agreement. 

Rhys glanced at the hole where the grating had been. "Cover me," he said and sprinted for the vent. 

"Cover you? Cover you? With what?" Zane shouted after him. Rhys leapt, grabbed the edge of the vent with one hand and reached in with his other arm, yanking at something. It came loose. 

"This," he retorted, tossing one of the Beretta 10mm pistols in a smooth arc. Zane plucked it out of the air and kissed the barrel with a grin. Rhys shook loose his body armour before reaching back in for the other handgun. Another flurry of gunfire from the hallway had him jumping back down with more haste than grace, gun in hand. He scooped up the armour and rolled back to the questionable safety of the cabinets. 

"I don't know how you managed to drag these along, but now I am so glad you did." Zane told him with delight. 

Rhys gave him a glare. "Cover me?" He prodded sarcastically, shrugging into the bulletproof vest. "Remember?" 

"Oh." Zane looked at his gun. "I guess I could have done that once I had this, huh?" 

Rhys stuck a finger through a bullet hole in the fabric of his black cargos. He waggled it meaningfully. 

"Yeah, yeah. My bad." Zane tilted his head towards the door. "So, the two of us and these 15 bullets each against unknown number of assailants with automatic weapons." He gave a wide grin. "Sounds like they're way overmatched." 

[Don't get cocky.] Alec said firmly. [I want you to ....] 

Rhys and Zane exchanged another look, then in unison lifted their hands and removed their earpieces. With identical mischievous grins they dropped them into thigh pockets and zipped them tight. "All right," Rhys took a deep breath and looked at the door. "Might as well get this over with." Zane shrugged and waved towards it invitingly. 

"Please," he said with a smile. "After you." 

"Naturally," Rhys said under his breath as he approached the door on silent feet. He paused about a metre away, taking another deep breath before lunging forward and wrenching it open. He charged through. 

The four men on the other side of the wall jerked in surprise, comical expressions of shock on their faces as he blurred right through their tight grouping. He spun into a back kick, taking the rearmost in the temple and moving smoothly into a straight punch to the cheekbone of the second. He did it properly, aiming for the other side of the guy's head. His target dropped like a stone. 

The remaining two had shaken loose from their shock. Gun muzzles rose with surprising speed to track on his movement. Rhys' eyes narrowed and he lifted his hands in seeming surrender, dropping his gun to the floor with a clatter. Even as it hit, he was blurring again, grabbing the barrel of the cut down uzi on the left and curling into his target's body. He forced the man's hand down on the trigger, tapping the last man twice in the head. 

"I thought you were planning on taking them all alive," Zane said, sticking his head cautiously around the edge of the door. 

"I was." Rhys shrugged, looked back over his shoulder, then elbowed his captive viciously in the face and released him. The man staggered back and Rhys turned in place, slugging him full force in the jaw. The man dropped like his knees had dissolved under him. "The uzi convinced me to change my mind." He shook his hand, picking up his gun and aiming it unerringly at the three unconscious attackers. 

Zane pulled a handful of twist ties out of his pocket and knelt to tie up their captives. 

"And," Rhys continued blandly. "Don't think I didn't notice all the help you gave me, partner." 

Zane smothered a grin. "What can I say?" He smirked. "This place brings back old memories and old habits." 

Rhys gave him a black look. "Old habits die hard, Zane. So could you." 

Zane laughed. "All right, all right," he said. "I knew you could handle it, big boy." 

"If you're not careful, I'll think you lost your nerve." Rhys' voice was joking. His eyes weren't. 

Zane stood. "Not my nerve," he said with a shrug. "My sense of balance." He turned to show Rhys an ugly, shallow groove just above the hairline behind his ear. It was seeping blood and looked painful. "Seems I didn't duck that last volley fast enough." 

Rhys sucked in his breath. "That was really close, man. You should have said something." 

Zane straightened and flashed him a mischievous grin. "I just did. Now, let's say something else." 

"How about 'cheese'?" Rhys gestured to a tiny glint on the wall above them. "I do believe we're being filmed." 

Zane stepped back, raised the Beretta, and fired a single shot into the lens. "Not anymore." 

"So, am I the only one here with a severe 'what the fuck' factor?" Rhys patted down the still unconscious captives rapidly. "I expected this place to be totally empty. Did anyone else even know about this facility?" 

"Only everyone. Manticore, the Familiars, CSIS, and whoever any of those guys told." Zane shrugged, rubbed a hand across his face. "I would like to know who's here now... and why?" 

"All right. Let's go look." Rhys crouched, picked up two of the semis and a stack of clips before striding confidently down the rubble strewn hallway. He paused to shoot out another mini-camera. "I'm sure we'll come across someone really soon. These guys are so welcoming and all." 

Alec paced the room as far as the small walls would let him move. He'd given up on using the headphones immediately after throwing them across the room. Somehow none of them thought that the tiny little pieces that were left would be useful anymore. 

Noah was happily putting them back together in the hallway anyway, though. 

Johan and Max had come in as well and had taken seats wherever a space could be had. Alec was coming perilously close to stepping on them with each circuit, but so far had only trod on Johan once. The blond man had simply squeezed himself smaller without comment. Max's face was carefully blank, and she stared fixedly at her shoes or at Noah's handiwork as they listened in. 

"They must have taken off the earpieces." Alec announced for what had to be the hundredth time. "Bastards." Logan and Johan nodded their agreement... again. 

Another burst of gunfire had Alec spinning back to face the speakers, fists clenching involuntarily. Rhys' harsh breathing and heavy grunt came through clearly, as well as a matching 'oof' from Zane. 

[Damn,] One of the men muttered under his breath. [That was damned close. These guys are good.] 

Alec heaved a breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair. {Be better.} He went back to pacing. 

"You know, Lydecker used to do that all the time on when you were out on missions too." Johan shifted to give Alec enough room to turn. 

"Do what?" He didn't pause, but did spare his friend a glance. 

"Pace. And mutter." Johan grinned up at him cheekily. Alec glared, opened his mouth. "And bite the head off of anyone nearby who dared to speak up." 

"Yeah, well." Alec lifted his chin against the constriction of his turtleneck. Max and Johan exchanged smirks. "Let's just say I'm developing an all new sympathy for the Colonel and leave it at that." 

Zane stared down at the body sprawled bonelessly in front of them. 

"Damn!" Rhys said, shaking his left hand while keeping the gun trained on the unmoving corpse. "Those guys go down hard." 

"I don't think he'll be getting back up without his brain." Zane dropped to one knee, examining the back of the dead man's neck closely. He squinted. Paled. "Rhys," he said hoarsely, frozen in place. "We need to get back home." He stood jerkily. "We need to get back home now." 

Rhys looked at him consideringly, then back at the body. "Explain," he ordered curtly. 

Zane brushed past him to rapidly scan the room at the end of the hall. There was nothing. "That's the last room," he said brusquely. "Whatever they were here for, they got before we came." He moved to pass again. Rhys grabbed his arm. 

"I asked you to explain." He said mildly. "Please." 

"It's not my story to tell." Zane looked away. "But once we're home, you'll hear the whole thing." He paused. "In the meantime, I can tell you that taking a look at this guy made a whole bunch of things a lot clearer." He shook Rhys' hand loose and strode back towards the room with the vent access. 

Rhys dropped to one knee beside the body, looked hard at the ruined neck. His eyebrows raised and lips pursed into a silent whistle as he reached up to rub his chin. "Well, well." He said softly. "I don't know what got clearer... but I'm sure it just got more complicated." He looked up, grinned to himself. "Hey, Alec," he said to the air. "You're gonna love this." He stood gracefully and set out after Zane at a trot. "Hang in there, buddy... we're on our way home." 

Alec leaned over Logan's shoulder, pushed the button to turn off the speakers. "They'll be back in 20 hours," he said. "We get to wait 'til then to find out what they're talking about." He dropped into his chair with a grunt of annoyance, realised with surprise that the room was almost dark. Night had fallen fully while they'd been listening to Rhys and Zane, and morning was well on its way. Only the lights of the computer screen and the LEDs on the panels provided illumination. Deliberately he reached over and shut them down, one by one. 

Johan heaved himself off the floor. "I'm going to head out for a while, then," he announced. "See some... friends." He smiled. "Be back tomorrow." 

Alec nodded. Logan's tired glance shifted between Alec's set face and Max's study of the floor between her feet. "I need caffeine." He said firmly. His eyes found Noah in the hallway, frowning intently at the pieces of the headphones as he worked to put them back together. "And ice cream," he said more loudly. Noah looked up. 

"Can I come?" 

"Of course! You can teach me which flavours are the best ones." Logan grinned at the little face turned eagerly up at him. "As long as Max doesn't mind." 

Max smiled at Noah's expectant look. "I don't mind. Not too much, though. Shark DNA or not, he'll have to go to bed eventually." Noah ran in and gave her a big hug, and Logan winked at her. 

With Johan, Logan and Noah gone, the room seemed bigger. And quieter. 

Alec closed his eyes in the welcome darkness, hands coming up to rub his forehead gingerly. Damn. A scotch would go down so well right now. He hated... hated when his friends went out on missions without him. He hated even more listening to gunfire and being unable to intervene. A sudden image of Mole sprawled in front of him had him launching to his feet and crossing jerkily to stare out the window. He focussed on the darkness as he had earlier, losing himself in the soothing blankness. 

"I was wrong." 

Max's voice startled him badly. He jumped, whirled. 

"What?" He demanded more harshly than he'd intended. Max didn't flinch. 

"I was wrong." She gazed at him steadily. "When I didn't come back. When I didn't trust you." She rose to her feet and advanced on him. Unaccountably, Alec retreated. "But you aren't entirely blameless in this, Alec. After all... Phones work both ways. You could have called me." She left. 

Alec turned with a snarl and punched the glittering bank of indicator lights as hard as he could. It gave with a gratifying crash. He stared down at the destruction, chest heaving. "Damn," he said softly. "What the fuck else is going to go wrong?" 

"Hey!" Logan called from the kitchen. "That one's coming out of your share!" 

Alec looked up at the ceiling. "Ah," he said. 

Zane came through the door first, throwing his arms wide and bellowing for Noah. "Where's my little man?" 

"Papa!" Noah barrelled out of Joshua's room and launched himself into Zane's arms, rocking him back on his feet. Rhys braced him with a steadying hand, then eased through the doorway around him, grinning widely. 

"Damn," he said. "Almost makes me want one." He caught the look Zane shot him and raised his eyebrows. "What?" He asked innocently. "I said 'almost'." 

Alec, Logan, and Max appeared from their various corners of the apartment at a more sedate pace. Logan reached Rhys first and buffeted his shoulder. "Thanks for the wonderfully exciting trip," he said with a wry grin. "Happy you're home." 

"Uh.. yeah." Rhys delved into a thigh pocket and came up with the earpiece. He handed it over sheepishly. "This... uh. Stopped working." 

"Sure it did." Logan looked at him a minute, then pulled him into a quick hug. He withdrew quickly, headed for the kitchen without looking at anyone. "I'm making coffee," he announced. 

Rhys blinked after him in bemusement, then turned to Max and Alec and jerked his thumb at Logan's retreating back. "What's with him?" He asked. 

Max just stared at him, then gave him a big hug of her own. Rhys embraced her back, giving Alec wide eyes over her shoulder. She released him after a brief squeeze, then stepped past him to greet Zane. Alec took a step towards him. Rhys lifted his hands. 

"Look," he protested. "No more hugging, ok? Cause this is really starting to freak me out." 

"We need to talk," Alec said. 

"Well, well." Rhys rubbed his chin calmly. "That is distressing news, isn't it?" 

Alec pursed his lips, ignored the still slightly smoky smell from the destroyed communications server. "You're taking this better than I did," he admitted. 

"What am I supposed to do? Shout? Rail at the world?" He glanced at the ruined receiver. "Break things?" 

Alec narrowed his eyes. "Yes," he said distinctly. "That is exactly what you should do." 

"Well, I won't." Rhys flashed him a wicked grin. "If only cause it'll drive you absolutely nuts that I'm so nonchalant." 

"I don't need more reasons to be driven nuts." 

"Totally true." Rhys sobered. "Look, man... If my time's up, so be it." He clapped Alec on the shoulder. "I'd be in damned good company." 

"You sound like you wouldn't mind." 

Rhys laughed harshly. "Oh... I would mind. I'm not done being here, yet. But I've never found that losing my composure got me any further to a solution." He pinned Alec with a dark look. "Have you?" 

Alec looked defensive. "I didn't lose my composure!" Rhys' eyes slid to the destroyed unit again. "Ok... maybe I did, a little. But it wasn't just over you, you know." He filled Rhys in on his deductions about Noah. "It's been a pretty rough couple of days." He glared. "And I haven't just been sitting around punching things, you know." 

Rhys motioned towards the new 'window' gracing the exterior wall of his room. "No?" He asked pointedly. 

"Let's focus here." Alec shifted so Rhys couldn't see the hole any longer. "I did get things rolling. Dalton is running all of the original DNA assays that we did on all of the transgenics, plus all of the children, plus Noah. He's looking for commonalities and divergences between all the samples. We're a pretty motley group, DNA-wise... it figures that the kill switch should be something common, likely in a similar location to aging or healing." 

"Makes sense." Rhys' eyes unfocused as he processed the possibilities. "Why Dalton?" He asked absently, still thinking. "What about Dix?" 

Alec's silence spoke for him. 

"Oh." Rhys rubbed his chin again, eyes shadowed. "After all of this, we are going to need one hell of a wake." He paused. "I'll get on helping Dalton after we eat," he decided. He sniffed appreciatively. "Max is making dinner?" He raised his eyebrows. 

"No, Logan is. Max doesn't like to cook." He frowned. "At least she didn't used to. Maybe she does now." 

"Ah, yes... I wonder what other tastes have changed?" Rhys looked at the expression on Alec's face and burst out laughing. "Don't worry about Max, Alec." He clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a bright smile. "After all, she's younger than you!" 

"Yeah... but you're not." Alec retorted, then winced. 

Rhys grinned wider. "So I've been told. And speaking of things to be told," now his smile looked positively glowing, "We need to fill you in on what we found at the compound." He rubbed his hands together. "But first I need to wash up and change. Meet you in the kitchen in five." 

Alec sniffed elaborately. "Better make it ten. Or fifteen." 

Rhys flapped a hand and headed for his room. 

Alec waited for it, already feeling immeasurably better at having Rhys home. 

"Alec!" The outraged bellow came an instant later. "What the fuck happened to my door?" There was a louder 'argh'!. "And my phone?" 

They sat down at the table with varying degrees of mood. Alec was still wearing a grin that broadened every time that Rhys levelled a new glare at him, Max was still withdrawn except when Noah dragged her into his childish enthusiasm at having 'Papa' home, Zane seemed relaxed and a little amused, and Logan bustled around like Suzy Homemaker, setting out the dinner. 

"Isn't it a bit late to have supper, Uncle Logan?" Noah piped up. 

"Or a bit early." Logan glanced at his watch with a rueful look. "But Papa and Uncle Rhys just got home, and they need a big, hearty meal to help them keep up their energy." 

"For what?" Noah's brow creased. 

"For talking," Alec interjected. He poured Zane a tall glass of water, pushed it in front of the other man. "Talking is thirsty work." 

"So it is." Zane took a sip, completely unconcerned. 

"So, talk." Rhys scooped a large forkful of pasta. 

Zane shifted. "Where would you like me to start?" He asked with a vaguely taunting smile. 

"Start with what you found at the compound," Logan suggested grimly. He poured himself a glass of red wine, and scotches for Rhys and Alec. Max and Zane's beers were already on the table. "I'm all aquiver with anticipation," he added dryly. 

"Technology," Zane replied easily. "I found technology." 

Alec's eyes slewed to Rhys' face. He nodded confirmation with a wicked grin. Alec closed his eyes for an instant. "Have you seen this technology before?" He asked with urgency in his voice. 

Zane's gaze sharpened, though his posture didn't change. "As a matter of fact, I have," he said slowly. "About three years ago." 

"I met them first," Max interjected suddenly. "Eight and a half years ago." 

Rhys and Alec exchanged looks, then both leaned back. Alec gestured for her to continue. "Do tell." 

Max filled them in quickly on her encounters with 'The Red Series'. "That..." She glanced at Noah and changed what she was about to say, "man Johannessen was planning on working out some kind of technology merge. Namely the kind that involves me being the mother of his nation." She shrugged. "I kicked their asses, proved to his soldiers that they couldn't be saved, and left him to them." 

"The what of his what?" Rhys asked incredulously. 

"They'd worked out some way for the implant to work with DNA resequencing, but it had to happen when they were young." She made a disgusted face. "He was using convicts as his soldiers. Poor..." Another glance at Noah. "Fellows." 

Alec's brows lifted. "Convicts." He tilted his head in thought. "This is starting to come together." His gaze shifted to Zane. "Now, you." He said. 

"They caught up to us in Denver." Zane spoke expressionlessly. Max reached over and touched his elbow. "They were still after a merge." He shrugged slightly. "We got away. Didn't see them again til Uzbekistan." His eyes narrowed on Alec's face. "And now, you." 

"Our meeting with the 'Red Series' was... what, Rhys, eleven?" Rhys made a 'thereabouts' gesture. "Eleven or so years ago." He grinned reluctantly. "We... uh... We were sent in to check out an arms dealer in Kazakhstan. The weapons he was dealing in were soldiers. Souped up, technologically advanced. Turns out that it was their advanced research base. We were provided as a sample of Manticore's tech to allow them to evaluate the potential for a merge. The results were considered very favourable." His lips twisted unpleasantly. "We ended up destroying the place and damned near everyone in it. Set them back probably 10, 15 years. Probably why they had to turn to convicts... made attrition less pricey. Once Deck found out about what was going on he stopped it. But whoever set it up originally probably sent them after you instead." It was his turn to shrug. "Sorry about that." 

Max was looking at him as though he'd sprouted another head. "You were up against the Red Series?" She asked incredulously. 

"Cage fighting," Alec confirmed, taking a drink of his scotch. "511 won, too." 

"Did you win, Uncle Alec?" Noah asked. His eyes were starting to droop. 

"Not exactly, Noah." Alec ruffled the little boy's hair. "But I didn't lose, either." He returned his attention to Max. "So they're still looking for you?" 

"Must be," Zane said. 

"You know who you should call, right?" Rhys started to laugh. 

Alec scrubbed his hands through his hair. "I don't know if I want to tell him this. About the killswitch and all." 

"Oh, you should definitely tell him," Rhys said with a combination groan and chuckle. "It should appeal to his sense of humour." 

The ringing woke him from a heavy sleep. He glanced at his watch. Five A.M. 

He reached for the phone. 

"Hello," he said. 

"Captain." The voice on the other end said. Just that, but Andrew Thomas's face broke into a huge grin. A grin that faded just as quickly as he realised the implications in that one word. 

"494," he replied softly. "It's good to hear your voice." 

"Alec." The voice corrected. "I'm Alec, now." 

"Well if you want to go by current identities," he laughed. "Then it's about time you dropped the titles and called me Andrew." 

Alec walked slowly through Interlaken Park, heading towards the cemetary. A grin still creased his face every few minutes as the relief of Rhys' safe return made itself felt again. He'd never been a worrier by nature, to say the least... but this kill switch bitch had him jumpier than he'd ever been before. He knew there was nothing he could do for Rhys in person that he couldn't do remotely. His desire to have him close by was illogical. Irrational, even. 

He was still happy to have him home. 

Zane, Rhys, Logan and Noah had all crashed after the meal like the food had been sedated. Alec hadn't quite been able to overcome the thread of adrenaline still buzzing faintly through his veins. After an hour, he'd given up and had stolen stealthily from the apartment at around 5am. From the couch in the living room, Max had silently watched him go. 

Now he strode across a wide expanse of space, dotted with trees. The cemetary opened in front of him, the rows of neat plots with their carved headstones marching for acres. He'd always found the place restful, before. Now it was just vaguely... disturbing. 

He turned south and entered Volunteer Park. 

The sun was threatening to rise. The buildings blocked his view of it, but the newly minted indigo sky told its own story. For the first time in days, there was no cloud cover to block the stars. He liked this time of night. 

Well, actually he liked all times of night. 

He entered a small grove of trees, intending to head over to Union Lake and watch the day break at the water. A tiny scuff of noise behind him had him whirling. 

Max stood about five meters away, foot raised to take a step, a guilty and somewhat abashed look clear on her face, thanks to his enhanced eyesight. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Max." 

She smiled tentatively. 

He took a long step sideways, leaned against a convenient tree. Under the trees the darkness was closer, more confining. "You followed me," he said softly. 

"You always were perceptive, Alec." Her voice was rich with amusement. "Maybe I was trying to get your attention." 

His eyebrows rose at that. He lifted his hand, displaying his cell to her. "I still carry a phone, Max." 

"So you reminded me last time." She walked to him, stood close. Closer than was comfortable. A deep breath flooded his head with her scent. He felt the impact all the way to his toes. How the hell did she _do_ this to him? She mimicked his sigh, her eyes falling closed as she smiled. Every muscle in his body went taut. 

"What are you doing, Max?" He asked more harshly than he meant to. 

She merely smiled wider, eyes opening slowly. "Exactly what I said I was," she replied. 

"Oh, you have my attention." He cleared his throat. "My full attention." 

She edged closer still. "Maybe I want more." 

He pushed upright from the tree, placing his hands on her shoulders and setting her further away from him. "Maybe, so do I. Like an explanation." 

She pouted, but gave in when he refused to budge. "I've been thinking," she said, "About us. About everything." She edged away, leaning against the tree he'd vacated. "Being back home has been... revealing." She shrugged and looked away. "Seeing you again has made a lot of things clear." 

"Things." He let the word hang between them until he couldn't stand it any longer. "What things?" Damned curiosity. 

She smiled up at him. "You're a good man." 

He blinked. "What?" 

"You're a good man. Noah loves you. Zane respects you. Your friends would follow you anywhere. You made friends with Logan. You taught Joshua how to have a real life here." She spread her hands. "You're a good man." 

He was more confused than ever. 

"You're also stubborn, arrogant, too self-confident by half, you have a terrible temper when you show it, your capacity for violence is huge, and you're more than a little cruel when you want to be." 

"Oh, well... that's a relief." He rolled his eyes. "Here I thought you'd gone soft on me." 

"Alec," her smile turned into an out right grin. "I never stopped being soft on you." 

He'd thought he was confused before. 

"Oh." He said blankly. 

"And for such a brilliant mind, you can sure be dense." She pushed away from the tree, cupped his face in her hands. He stared down into her intent eyes, absolutely still under her fingers. "I knew as soon as I saw you in that museum in your burglar outfit, but it didn't really drive home for me til I watched you leave this morning." Her eyes searched his, for what he wasn't sure. 

"What's that?" He sure as hell didn't want any misunderstandings about this. 

"I want you." She stated it baldly, with a pure honesty that was so unlike his memory of Max that he was shaken. "All that time ago, I was wrong. What was between us... it was too much. But I'm stronger now. And I know. You're what I want." 

Alec's heart stopped. He had absolutely no idea what to say. His mouth opened, then closed. Max's lips quirked, and she released him. 

"Don't worry," she told him lightly, though he could see a shadow in her eyes. "I don't expect you to feel the same way." Her smile deepened. "Yet." 

"Max." He closed his eyes, shook his head in bemusement, started again. "Max, I..." 

Her fingers pressed against his lips, sending ripples through him. "Don't say anything," she said firmly. His eyes opened to find her laughing (laughing!) at him. "I know this is all too fast for you. I can be patient." His eyebrow lifted in disbelief. "I can!" 

He lifted his hand, placed his palm against her wrist, and gently pushed her fingers from his mouth. "Max, with everything that's happening, I..." 

"You really don't have to say anything," she interrupted. "Really. I understand." 

He gave her a glare, took her shoulders and gave her a small shake. "I let you talk. It's my turn." Wide-eyed, she nodded. "Look," he said firmly, then softened his tone as her expression fell. "I don't know what's going to happen with all of this. What I do know is that I can't fight all of it at once. And," he paused for a moment before pushing the words out past his tight throat. "There are parts I don't want to fight." 

"What parts?" asked Max tentatively. 

"This part." 

He cocked his thumbs under her jaw, tilting her head and lifting her against him. He paused with his mouth hovering a breath away. Her eyes had fluttered closed, but opened again as a long moment passed and he didn't move. She looked confused. 

She looked beautiful. 

He smiled into her eyes. "I've missed you, Max," he said, and finally brought his mouth down on hers. 

* * *

Rhys lay awake. 

He half-listened to Alec's restless movements, smiled when he finally got up and stealthily crept from the apartment. The smile widened into an outright grin when he heard Max follow. 

_Good,_ he thought, _Max'll take care of him. About time..._

The grin fled as he considered the gaping lack of door to his room. The loss of control wasn't like Alec at all. Even at Terminal City, six months into the siege and with people dying around them every day, Alec had kept his cool. Physically at least. The shattered phone, hole in the wall, destroyed receiver all spoke to a deep stress. 

True, they were all dying. More than a third gone already. But still... 

He shook his head in disgust. He knew what it was. It was the threat to himself. Rhys. Alec's right hand. 

He'd known what he was doing those years ago, when he'd set himself at Alec's side and refused to be removed. He'd told himself it was so that Alec would have support other than Joshua. So that Alec would have a partner he could use worldwide without putting himself in danger. So that _Alec_ would be better off. 

But in reality, it was selfishness, pure and simple. It was his own need to be a part of something bigger than himself. His own need to be led. His own fear of being alone. And it was only now that he wondered if he'd been right to place himself there, to make himself so much a part of Alec's life. To make himself indispensible. 

He knew the story of how Alec had reacted when 511 was killed. 

How much worse would it be now, if _Rhys_ died and Alec was helpless to stop it? 

He looked at the hole in the wall and wondered. 

"Hey." The greeting startled him. Johan stood framed in the doorway to his room, Joshua's nightlight glinting off of his golden hair. "They told you, huh?" 

Rhys nodded slowly. 

"How are you holding up?" 

"Could be worse." Rhys flashed a grin he didn't feel. Johan just grunted, unimpressed. 

"Could be better, too, I'll bet." He walked in to the room, dropped into the chair Rhys kept to read in. Rhys eyed him speculatively. 

"Why so concerned, Johan? What's your number again?" 

"33-2." Johan grinned at him. "I have almost two years left." 

It was Rhys' turn to grunt. He rolled over and presented his back pointedly. Johan rose. "Don't worry about Alec," he said softly, stopping in the doorway. "Alec has plenty of people to lean on. People who _you_ helped put there." There was a long pause. "This time, let us worry about you." 

Rhys stared blankly at the wall for a long time after he was sure Johan had left. He glanced at his watch. Almost six a.m. Alec should just about be realising that Max was tailing him. He gave a half smile and wondered how long it would take her to win him over. Knowing her, about five minutes. Knowing _him_ , maybe less. 

Johan was absolutely right. Alec would be fine. It was Rhys who would be dead. 

The starkness of the thought stopped his breath. The dark knot of ice that had taken up residence in his stomach expanded abruptly. He could feel his pulse in his throat. Jesus. He would be dead. Like all of the others. 

He opened his mouth and breathed out harshly. The darkness expanded further, until he felt consumed by it, smothered by it. The sensation wasn't entirely unfamiliar. It was like ... drowning, he thought. An icy sweat broke out over his whole body instantly upon the thought reaching his mind. It was like being buried alive. He curled into a ball, trying to fight the sensation back. Trying to avoid losing himself in all that fear. _That's what this is,_ he thought with a shudder. _Fear..._

A cold nose thrusting against the nape of his neck brought him upright with a jolt. TeaCup clambered inelegantly onto his bed and sprawled firmly over most of his lower body. She stuck her nose under his hand, demanding attention. Liquid brown eyes gazed soulfully up into his. Slowly he complied, rubbing behind her ears gently. She heaved a blissful sigh and settled her paws against his shoulders before stretching further, resting her head under his chin and exhaling on a rumbling growl. 

Rhys stared at the ceiling, letting TeaCup's heavy body help keep him warm. The darkness receeded, curling slowly back down to the icy knot. He focussed, listening intently to TeaCup's heart beating rapidly against his arm. 

It was a long time before he fell asleep. 

"It was the Red Series," Andrew repeated Rhys' words with disbelief. "Are you _sure_?" Rhys' look in response spoke volumes. "Sorry," he muttered absently. "Of course you're sure." He scrubbed both hands over a face that had aged considerably in the time since Alec had seen it last. His eyes, and the mind behind them, were as bright as ever though. 

His arrival that morning had been characteristically low-key... for a moment. The ringing of the doorbell brought Noah at a run, and Andrew had found himself looking down... _far_ down into green/hazel eyes bright with curiosity. "Hello?" He'd asked with something approaching shock. 

"Noah!" A very tall black-haired man he didn't know had emerged hurriedly from what seemed to be the kitchen. "How many times have I told you not to answer the door?" He'd held out his hand. "I'm Zane." 

"I'm..." He had begun to answer when 494 had stepped out of a hallway and the words had stuck in his suddenly tight throat. He'd stood there agape for an instant. The kid looked all grown up. All grown up, and good. The next moment, 494 had wrapped him in a bear hug that threatened to crack ribs that weren't as young as they used to be. After an astonished breath, he hugged the kid back, just as hard. 

Damn, it was good to see him. 

"Damn, it's good to see you!" 494 had echoed his thoughts out loud. Then another tall, black haired man had come out of what must have been his bedroom, thoroughly rumpled from sleep. Andrew had blinked. 

"You're.... Damn. I know you too." 

"Rhys." The man... Rhys... had supplied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

And now, Andrew knew where the shadows in the dark eyes came from. He rubbed his eyes again, feeling old. "The Red Series," he muttered, then looked at 494 directly. "You're in some trouble." 

"Yeah." Rhys winced a little. "What I really want to know is, why were they there? Not just the first time, but specifically _this_ time. That place had been cleaned out for years. Why go back?" 

Andrews blinked, then with one sentence justified Alec's call. "I'd think that would be obvious," he said blankly. "They're dying, too." 

There was an abolute, stunned silence. 

"They're dying too," Rhys breathed. "Well, fuck me." 

"That's it." Alec began to pace, chewing his thumb. "That's it. I can feel it... you're right." 

"That's actually good news," Logan chimed in. "Maybe we can contact them, work together." 

Alec nodded absently. "It's a good idea." His eyes found Zane's coolly amused ones. "Though they might be thinking we've set them up on purpose." 

"How could they think that?" Rhys shook his head, clearly distracted by the implications of Andrews' bombshell. "God... if we had their data on top of what Dalton's already working on, it could cut our analysis time by days; maybe more." 

"I do wonder how they found Ashkovich's place the first time." Logan was frowning as he watched Alec hold Zane's eyes. Something passed between them, and Zane shrugged and sighed. 

"I gave them the co-ordinates." He admitted easily. "I handed over the remains of the compound when we ran into them three and a half years ago." 

"Jesus!" Rhys was startled out of his reverie. "Why?" 

Zane's eyes slewed to Noah, playing at his feet. "It was necessary," he said curtly. 

"I don't think that's good enough." Rhys retorted. "You gave Manticore up to the Reds... because it was necessary." 

"Yes." Zane met his glare levelly. "Look, pal... I never gave a damn about Manticore or the research. You knew that already." 

"And when they threatened something you did give a damn about..." Alec trailed off meaningfully. 

"I didn't hesitate." Zane shrugged. "It was a clean trade. They forgot they'd ever seen... us." He glanced at Noah again. "And I gave them directions to the technology that made... us... something they wanted. Simple self-preservation." 

"Not exactly noble of you." Alec said dryly. "But certainly consistent." 

"I'd do anything I had to." Zane replied with a lack of emotion that made the impact of his words all the more chilling. "I'd give up anything, anyone... I'd kill every other person in this room including myself _in a heartbeat_ if it meant keeping Noah safe." 

Alec nodded slowly. Rhys leaned back. Logan shrugged, and Andrews just looked interested. "So they might think it was a poison pill." He hummed softly as he thought. "But you need their research, and you need to know what parts of the genetic codes they implemented." He spread his hands. "Looks like Captain Thomas Andrews just came back from the dead." 

Alec watched the expressions flit across his friend's face as he heard the recent happenings, the warmth of seeing the Captain again mixing with the heat of his encounter with Max. He felt good. 

He felt guilty as hell. 

He shook his head at the Captain's words. "I don't want you to break cover, Captain. I just want to pick your brain." 

"Well, I haven't been real active in the service lately, 494," the Captain replied caustically. "Being dead and all kinda put a crimp in my intelligence gathering activities. I just don't have any up to date information for you." He shook his head. "Nope... you need me to find out what's going on. To do that, I have to be alive. I'll need to contact Johanssen." 

"Good luck." The soft contralto had all the men turning to look. Max entered, freshly scrubbed and with her hair still wet from her shower. Andrews' eyes sharpened with appreciation. "Last time I saw him his men were about to rip him to shreds." She ran a hand through her hair, tucking a stray lock back into submission. "Something about not liking how he was jerking them around on their likelihood of survival." 

Andrews nodded noncomittally. "I'll only believe it when I see it myself. Johanssen should have died in Kazakhstan, too, and he still managed to survive. If he is dead, I have some other people I can hit up." 

The front door opened and Johan strode in. He glanced around the room casually, did a classic double take at seeing Andrews. "Captain." His eyes found the scar creasing Andrews' neck, and he smiled. "A bit messy, but still good work." 

Andrews' eyes narrowed, then he snapped his fingers. "Blond boy!" He exclaimed, then laughed. "I mean, 303." He corrected himself. 

"These days, my name is Johan," he replied and held out his hand for a handshake before dropping into a nearby chair. "It is good to see you looking so much healthier than last time." Alec sat as well, and Max joined him. Her brows creased with curiosity. 

"I sense a story here," she said with a smile. "Exactly how do you know Alec, Captain?" 

"I saved his ass a few times," he said smoothly, winking at her. 

"And a damned fine ass it is," she nodded her appreciation. 

"Ah, yes... The ass obsession rears its dirty head once again." Alec smirked and pointedly stood so they could both get a good view of the aforementioned body part. 

Rhys glanced over his shoulder. "I think mine's better." 

Johan looked vaguely alarmed at the turn the conversation had taken. "Ok," he said, "But this time, there is no way you're talking me into being the judge." 

As one Andrews, Zane, Logan and Max turned to stare at him. "THIS time??" 

Alec hastily sat down and looked innocent. Rhys laughed out loud. Johan looked defensive. "Look, being drafted as a judge was bad enough. But when they decided to show me the 'unfettered goods', I had to draw the line!" 

"Hey, you only had to grade on shape and form," Alec interjected with a smirk. "Originally we included 'firmness' and 'texture', too!" 

Johan gave him a beautific smile. "I saved those categories for Asha and OC," he said, "and we weren't judging asses." He paused. "Well... not *just* asses." 

"But... OC's into women." Max's eyes were very wide. 

"Why else do you think Asha was there?" Johan stood and stretched hugely. His hair glinted gold against the collar of his turtleneck. "Well," he amended modestly. "To be fair, we shared." He clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly, looking around. "Hungry?" 

Noah immediately looked up from the floor. "I am, Uncle Johan!" 

Johan gave a fake groan and scooped him from the floor. "I'm not surprised. You're always hungry!" He carried the laughing little boy into the kitchen. 

Rhys stood, grabbed his coat. "I'm heading over to help Dalton," he said. "I'll call if we find anything." 

Andrews stood as well, with somewhat more effort. "I'm going to start calling around a bit," he said. "Do you have a secure line somewhere I can use? I don't want anyone tracking me here, just in case." 

"Absolutely." Logan grinned widely and ushered Andrews towards the tiny communications room. "Just this way... don't mind the singed smell... Alec had a disagreement with one of my receivers..." His words trailed off as they turned the corner. 

"Damn," Alec muttered, pulling Max close and watching Rhys shut the door. "I hope this all comes together soon." His eyes moved to the doorway where Logan and Andrews had disappeared. "Come on Captain... save my ass again." 

Rhys pushed himself to his feet with a heartfelt groan. His knees echoed his sentiment with an ominous creak of their own. Dalton shot him a grin. "You're falling apart!" 

"No kidding." He rubbed the small of his back with stiffened fingers. "I'm just not used to sitting hunched on the floor for hours any more." A tall ream of paper teetered as his foot brushed it, and he looked around grimly at the disaster of Dalton's living room. "Did we reach a critical breathrough while I wasn't looking?" He asked wistfully. 

Dalton's grin went crooked. "No," he replied wryly. 

"Ah," Rhys heaved a sigh. "Thought not - but it was worth checking, just in case. Ok, then ... let's review what we have worked out..." He held up his hand, one finger extended. "One - Joshua is still alive, and none of us knows how old *he* is, so he must not have this gene turned on... if it is just one gene. Two - The sequence seems to activate a response around age thirty, give or take a couple of weeks." 

"You'd think they'd have been more precise." 

Rhys ignored the interruption with a baleful look. "Three - so far Joshua is the only survivor. Four - Seems everyone with a barcode including the kids is likely to have this, and 5 - we can't prove yet that the human kids don't." He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Frankly, that scares me a lot more than my birthday coming up." 

"I have to believe that Joshua is the key." Dalton scanned the computer screen in front of him again, eyes intent. "He's our only data-point though... and we've found genes in common between him and every dead transgenic. There is not a single code unaccounted for here... It *must* be a sequence combination. How the hell are we supposed to find this?" 

Rhys blinked red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know yet." He shrugged. "But I will." He laughed darkly. "Or I'll die trying." 

"Not funny." Dalton didn't look up, but his tone was grim. 

"Oh, I dunno..." Rhys gave his first genuine smile of the day. "Pretty funny from here." 

"Ass." Dalton shook his head, clicked his mouse. 

* * *

"Andrews. I hadn't expected to hear your voice again." Johanssen didn't sound pleased at the reality. "I thought you were dead." 

"It disappoints me too, sometimes." Andrews shifted in his seat and gripped the phone a little harder. "I need information." 

Johanssen gave a non-committal, and decidedly irritated, hum. 

"It's about something I think might be near and dear to your heart these days." Andrews continued doggedly. "Assuming that you didn't get so used to your team dropping dead every few days that you're not trying to extend their lives anymore." The line was dead silent. Andrews let the pause draw out before speaking further. "I imagine if nothing else that it's still expensive enough replacing them to be bad business." 

Johanssen sounded as though he was gritting his teeth. "Sounds as though you have all the information you need already." His breath hissed faintly with his anger. "I'd love to know how you... obtained what you have." 

"An educated guess." He chose his words carefully. "I'm... in contact with X5-494." 

"X5-49... _Dmitry_???" Johanssen sounded strangled. "You double-crossing son of a ..." 

"There's information you want, Johannsen." Andrews cut him off. "Information you need." He could hear the other man's heavy breathing as he struggled to bring himself back under control. "And you'll have to get past who my allies are in order to get it." 

"Allies?" Johanssen sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth. "Who else?" 

"X5-452." 

The noise on the other end of the phone sounded suspiciously like a snarl. 

"... and..." Andrews checked the slip of paper in his hand. Logan nodded at him encouragingly. "X5-205." He finished in a rush, waited for the explosion. 

"X5." Johannsen's voice was a whisper of rage. "205." 

"It wasn't a poison pill." Andrews interjected quickly. "At least, not one we knew about." 

A decisive click was his only reply. Andrews looked at the receiver and replaced it in the cradle ruefully. "This a traceable line?" 

Logan shrugged. "Not exactly. He'll be able to get a number off it that will give him somewhere to call... but if he's looking for a location he'll end up in outer Mongolia." 

"Well, that _should_ slow him down a little," Andrews grinned. "Now, we wait." 

* * *

"Damn, I hate waiting." Alec gnawed his thumb compulsively. Max rolled her eyes and yanked his hand away from his mouth. 

"I'd have thought seven years would have taught you patience," she muttered. 

"It did," he retorted smoothly. "And now I'm all out." 

She twitched the sheet back over the smooth expanse of his stomach. "You sure are." She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand and watching him return to chewing his thumb. He glanced sidelong and caught her arched eyebrow then pulled his hand away with a sigh. 

"Why haven't they called in yet?" He asked morosely. "You'd think, after all this time, Rhys would know better than to just leave me hanging like this..." 

A delicate trill interrupted him, and he catapulted from the bed to grab the cell fiercely. "Where the hell have you been?" 

"Ah... my master's gentle voice." Johan's voice laughed at him from the other end of the line. "You ever considered telemarketing? I'm sure you'd be... memorable." 

Alec gave a decidedly unimpressed snort. "It's..." He glanced at the clock, "3am. What do you want?" 

Johan turned serious. "There are a lot of transgenics coming into Seattle, boss," he said. "Housing is going to be a problem." 

Alec frowned. "Put 'em in TC," he replied shortly. 

"That's only good for the transgenics." Johan gave a soft sigh of frustration. "I'm not being clear, here... There are a lot of transgenics coming in... with their families." He paused. "Their *ordinary* families, Alec. These people have been passing for years. They're here cause they're afraid, but they're more afraid of being outted. We need a better solution than Terminal City." 

"Shit." Alec was starting to feel positively slow. Why hadn't he anticipated this? He looked at Max, who shrugged eloquently. No ideas there, either. His mind raced. "A convention," he blurted unconvincingly. "A.. Sci-Fi convention." 

Johan's silence was eloquent. 

"You have anything better?" 

The silence this time was even more telling. 

"Didn't think so. Come to think of it, this might actually be good... call around. Get special rates." He heaved a sigh. "In the meantime, get people buying up all the hotel rooms in the city." Mentally he kissed his replacement burglar outfit goodbye. "We'll figure out some way to pay for it. For now, use the platinum card." 

"Hmmm..." Alec could picture Johan's shrug. "Ok - but remember how cranky Logan was last time." 

"Last time was four tickets to Amsterdam to visit the red light district cause you were bored," Alec pointed out. "This is a somewhat better cause. Better get people on coupons and stuff for local attractions too... we're going to want to get rid of the families for a while." 

"I'm on it." The distinctive rasp of fingers on stubble came across the line. "Alec - you need to meet with these folks quickly. There's a lot of fear here." His voice dropped. "No one wants to die, you know?" 

Alec's eyes slewed to Max, still listening intently. The compassion in her dark eyes was almost palpable. "Yeah," he said softly. "I know. Set something up, and get back to me." He hung up. 

"How much time left?" Max glanced at the clock. Alec didn't. 

"Six days twelve hours thirty two minutes." He answered shortly. "Plus up to five days grace. Though it seems that period gets shorter as we move through the classes. I guess they were perfecting their technique." His smile held no humour. "I think they took the word 'deadline' a little too literally." 

"I'm so sorry, Alec." Max wrapped her arms around him. "I just don't know what to say." 

He hugged back. "That's ok, Max. Don't take this wrong, but you really aren't the one I *want* to hear from right now." His eyes locked on his phone, set back on the top of his dresser. 

* * *

_{Six days, nine hours, and twenty two minutes.}_

{Six days, seven hours, and thirteen minutes.} 

{Six days, six hours, and forty-six minutes.} 

Alec wasn't sure what would drive him crazy faster; the interminable waiting or the relentless counting. 

_{Six days, five hours, and three minutes.}_

{Six days, four hours, and fifty-seven minutes.} 

"Jesus!" He sprang to his feet, ignoring Max's startled blurt of noise beside him. He grabbed the phone, stared at it as if he could make it burst into flame and gritted out, "ring, damn you!" 

Obediently, it trilled to life. Alec stared at it in frank astonishment. 

"I hope you only use those powers for good," Max said before plucking the phone from his hand as it rang again. "Hey," she said into the receiver. "Yeah, he's here." She handed it back, pushed it to his ear. "This is where you talk." 

Alec shook his head. "Right." He nestled the phone against his ear before barking, "Where the hell have you been?" 

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Rhys' exhaustion-roughened voice had Alec sagging with relief. "I have been working through the hell that is our genetic codes." He groaned. "Sitting on Dalton's floor, I might add. Christ, I'm getting old." 

"Tell me you found something." 

"OK, we found something." 

"The switch?" 

"Sadly, no." Rhys' voice was grave. "We've found that we can't find the switch." 

Alec's breath left his body, and he found himself sitting on the floor with no memory of how he got there. Max's hands were urgent on his shoulders, and the murmur in his ear resolved itself slowly back into Rhys' voice. 

"... checked thousands of combinations without finding any common to all of us. It would take several years to even hope to find the right set, Alec... we just don't have that kind of time." 

Alec opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The hole in his chest seemed to be sucking everything into it. He put his head between his knees. 

"Alec?" Rhys asked. "Alec? Alec... answer me. You there?" 

Max grabbed the phone. "What did you tell him?" She demanded angrily. Alec reached up, plucked it away from her. 

"Rhys." His voice sounded rusty. "What else have you got?" 

"We know Joshua hasn't got it." Rustling noises had Alec picturing Rhys rearranging himself on the couch to be more comfortable. "Unfortunately that hasn't helped us much." 

Alec braced his forearms across his knees. "What does that leave us with?" 

"Actually, buddy, it's not all bad news." 

"Glad you started with bat to the head then, cause right now I could really use some *good* news." He found that he was able to breathe again, though his throat still felt tight. He could hear Rhys relax a little and realised how much his friend must have been dreading breaking that news. 

"Dalton has been doing research." He sounded a little disguntled. "Gave up on this sequencing thing hours before I did. And well... he has an idea." 

"What is it?" Alec demanded. 

"Uh..." There was a whispered consultation on the other end of the line. Alec tapped his foot with irritation. "Yeah, we want to tell you this in person." Rhys sounded uneasy. "It's a pretty radical idea, man. I really think we should be there." Suddenly he laughed. "If for no other reason than to see the look on your face." 

"Fine. Come home then, and bring the kid with you." A grin of pure delight spread across his face. "And bring the Klingon costume too." 

{Six days, four hours, and thirty minutes.} 

Alec was annoyed that the irritating countdown in the back of his head hadn't stopped with Rhys' call. It hadn't even taken a break. The relentless mental ticking was driving him crazy. The fact that it was his *own* brain doing it just made it all the worse. Normally it was someone else he would be busy driving nuts. He was starting to have a level of sympathy for Max he never would have believed possible. "Damn, I'm annoying sometimes," he blurted. 

Max blinked at him from her perch on the arm of his chair. "Won't get an argument from me," she said cautiously. "But... why in this particular case?" 

He was saved from answering by the distinctive grate of a key in the lock. All of the people in the room turned to look. 

Johan blinked at the six pairs of eyes glaring at him. "I could come back later," he offered. 

"No, stay, old man." Dalton shouldered past him. "I think you're going to want to hear this." He stopped at the sight of the already pretty full room, then grinned. "I see you've brought everyone up to date." 

"Up to date with nothing." Logan growled. He was looking a bit worse for wear, having spent another long and mostly sleepless night searching online for additional information that could point to the location of the Red labs. Andrews narrowed his eyes at Dalton. 

"I don't remember you," he said. He glanced at Alec. "Do I?" 

Both of the men at the door were suddenly propelled forward as Rhys gave a hard shove. "Get inside, already," he demanded with irritation. He took in the scene at a glance. Noah curled at Zane's feet in front of the couch, playing with Teacup; Max sitting on the arm of Alec's chair, hovering with a combination of worry, protectiveness and possessiveness; Andrews and Logan slumped in identical postures of exhaustion on the loveseat. All the eyes looking at him were red-rimmed with lack of sleep. "Right," he said. "You all look like I feel. Coffee all around it is." He paused. "And I'm not taking requests. You'll all drink what I make you and like it." 

"I'm Dalton." The irrepressible young man stepped forward and shook Andrews' hand. "Don't mind him. Dying makes him cranky." There was a snort from the kitchen. "Fine, fine. Makes you testy, then." 

"Doesn't exactly make me whistle show tunes." Alec replied drily. "What have you got?" 

"Told you he'd get right to the point." Rhys leaned against the kitchen door as the smell of brewing coffee began to curl through the room. 

Zane picked Noah up and gave him a hug that had the little boy squirming with delight and a little bit of discomfort. He released him with a quick kiss on the head, then stretched his long body to its fullest extent before relaxing back into a pose of deceptive ease. "I think we're all very interested in what you have to say, Dalton," he said softly. "Now would be a good time to fill us in." 

Dalton nodded. "Of course." He paused. "I'll need something to write on." 

Alec shrugged. "Use the wall." He reached into the drawer of the endtable to his right, pulled out a marker and tossed it over. He caught the look Rhys gave him. "What," he asked innocently. "With the hole in it we have to repaint anyway." Rhys gave a low growl and turned to watch Dalton. Johan took a seat beside Zane, absently giving Noah a quick hug on his way. 

Dalton ignored them, drawing a pair of squares on the wall, then drawing a line connecting them. A second line was drawn straight down from the first, and he placed a third square at its end, forming a letter T with squares at each line end. "You all know the basic genetic principles of inheritance, right?" He asked. 

"You mean, like blue eyes and blue eyes don't give brown eyes?" Andrews asked. 

"Yes, exactly... everyone receives two copies of genetic material; one from Mom and one from Dad, and they combine to form a unique result. It can work only from the building blocks it starts with, and there are clear rules around dominance and recessive inheritance. Naturally, there are also exceptions." He gave an expression of irritation. "Nature just does not play fair. In any case, that is the basic idea." He drew a line down the middle of the bottom square. "Then there is the problem of mutation." He drew a squiggle in the top left square. "We have plenty of cases of mutations of course, where one parent's genetic code changes due to a spontaneous process and no longer matches either of the parents. This is perfectly natural. Offspring may or may not carry the mutation, because of the genetic material from the second parent." 

Everyone nodded. 

Dalton drew a squiggle in the top right box. "When both parents have a particular mutation, the offspring must inherit it." He drew the squiggle in the bottom box. "Both genetic copies contain the change, you see?" Another round of nods. "Ok. This is where we start to move off the track a bit." 

"Dalton... there is one problem here." Max spoke up with a frown. "This is all quite accurate, but I don't see how it applies to us anyway. We're not offspring of a random genetic process. We were built - engineered." 

"You're right." Dalton agreed. "But bear with me, OK? You'll see in a moment." 

Max subsided. 

When Dalton spoke again, it was directly to Max. "You could think of us as an extreme... very extreme... set of mutations. Better yet, you could think of us as the offspring of parents with extreme mutations. OK?" 

Max's frown didn't lighten, but she gestured for him to continue. He switched his focus to Alec. "About twenty years ago, there was a fairly significant amount of research into the concepts of genetic inheritance. It was triggered by a surprising discovery." He drew another two Ts above his first, indicating the grandparents of his 'offspring' in his diagram. He then drew a star in each of the parent squares, leaving the grandparent and offspring squares blank. "They found that sometimes, when both parents have the same genetic mutation, their children.... didn't." 

"What?" Max was startled. "That wasn't in any of the genetics courses I was in. Or the books I read afterwards." 

"Manticore concentrated on different things, Max. This branch was a bit of a flash in the pan... They proved what they set out to and moved on. The applications of the advance were huge... but I'll need to continue a bit first." Dalton took a deep breath. Rhys interrupted with the round of coffee, which he accepted with a smiled thanks. The others all took their cups and waited intently. He took a sip, enjoying the suspense. Rhys smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah... get on with it. I hear you." He took another drink. "They found that sometimes, the offspring produced a countervailing mutation, resulting in a copy of genetic code... from one of the *grandparents*." There was a general look of incomprehension. "They traced it to RNA inheritance. The weaker cousin of DNA would sometimes pop out of hiding and revert changes. RNA could overcome DNA inheritance and replace the DNA code with an older, purer copy - from a grandparent." Still the confused look. He waved his hands in frustration. "Can't you see what this *means*??" 

Logan stood, took a long drink of his coffee. He grimaced at the taste, then stole a quick glance at Rhys. "I like it, I like it," he said quickly then returned to Dalton. "Unless I'm wrong," he said slowly, "what you're saying is that we could use RNA inheritance to revert your DNA to a copy from before your mutations." 

Everyone blinked in unison. 

"What?" 

"How?" 

"But..." 

Alec interrupted. "Dalton." Everyone dropped into silence. "Tell us why this avenue of research wasn't pursued." 

Dalton spread his hands. "When they attempted to productise the technology, they found that it was unpredictable. They couldn't verify that they were targetting the right sequence in the RNA strands, couldn't target which grandparent the copy was from. Then, the Pulse kinda interrupted legitimate research." He shrugged. "And Manticore's interests lay elsewhere." 

"Do you understand what you're suggesting?" Zane asked tautly. "I mean, do you _get_ what this would mean? If it worked?" 

"Oh, yes." Rhys spoke up from his position back in the doorway. His voice was ragged. "Yes, we understand. As I can see you do. If it worked..." He swallowed visibly. "If it worked, we'd be human. _All_ human." 

The silence in the room was absolute. 

Alec gave a single, long blink. "All human?" 

Rhys nodded. "There is no way to reliably target the right sequences... and we can't find the right ones to target anyway! The only way to be sure is to trigger a complete swap." 

"What if there was more time?" 

Dalton and Rhys exchanged glances. Dalton shrugged and waved at Rhys to answer. "No." Rhys shook his head definitively. "With the information we currently have, there is no way to identify what the right combination of genes is. We haven't found anything to ID them." 

Alec nodded slowly. "What's it going to take to make this happen?" 

"Just like that?" Max was shocked. 

"Just like that." Alec's face was hard. 

"Well.. not quite." Dalton said. "We'll need a facility." 

"What about West Vale?" Johan offered. "Or Springfield?" 

Dalton shook his head. "Stripped, and stripped. We need an intact facility." His eyes flickered to Rhys. "And we need one fast. This stuff isn't exactly sink science... we'll need a real lab." 

"We also need to tell the others." Rhys gestured to the duffle he'd dropped beside the door on his way in. "I brought the costume. Now you can tell me why." 

A wide grin spread across Alec's face. "We're having a Con." 

Rhys laughed. "Seriously?" Alec nodded. 

"Uh, excuse me." Max raised her hand. "Aren't we going to finish the conversation we already had going? RNA? Human? Facility required?" 

Zane still radiated a dangerous tension. "What if people aren't interested?" 

"To save their lives?" Logan gave an incredulous laugh. "To spend more time - maybe a lifetime! with their families? You've got to be kidding." 

Zane turned to look at Logan. It was not a friendly expression. 

Logan held up his hands. "I'm just saying. I've met a lot of you guys at this point, and wanting to get out from under the transgenic label has been to say the least a common theme." 

"The label, Logan. Not the skin." Johan stood jerkily and began to pace. With the small space available in the room it looked more like turning in place. "Not becoming human." 

"But think of what it would give us." Max said hotly. "No more being chased, no more being afraid. No more being different." 

The expression Zane now turned on her was downright icy. Johan mirrored him. "I like being different," he said. 

"Then _be_ different. You can be human and be different!" 

Alec and Rhys exchanged a quick glance. Rhys cocked his head minutely towards the kitchen. Alec stood and quietly extricated himself from the brewing fight. The shouting began as he hit the door. 

"Whew." Rhys came through after him and leaned against the wall. "I'd like to say I didn't see that coming, but I did." 

Alec tilted his head slightly, his back to Rhys. His voice was hoarse when it came. "Did you bring me in here to tell me you don't want to be treated?" 

Rhys rubbed his hands over his face. "Nooo." His words were muffled by his palms. Alec spun on his heel to see him. When his face emerged his eyes were tired. "No. I'd already decided before we came home that I'd rather live than be special." He shrugged wearily. "Besides, we really have no idea what effect what we're proposing will actually have. Will it change appearance? Will it change abilities? Intelligence?" He paused. "Personality?" 

"I wish I knew." 

"Me too." Rhys' smile had a grim cast to it. "No, Alec. I brought you in here to tell you this may be too late either way. We don't have a lot of time to find a lab and put together a transgenic DNA scrubbing program into place. Maybe as much as three weeks, maybe four. Maybe as little as a few days. There are no guarantees it'll work, either." 

"So?" 

Rhys' eyebrow raised sharply. "So? Don't get your hopes up, buddy." 

Alec's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't get my hopes up?" He raked stiffened fingers through his hair. "I have a goddamned ticking clock in my head, counting down the seconds left of _your life_ , that is quiet for the first time in two days. I have a possibility of a solution that will let some... _some_ of the transgenics on the list in front of you survive, maybe. If I want to have hope in there too, then I will! And so, gods damn it, will you!" By the end he was shouting. 

Rhys tilted his head, considering his friend's heaving chest and hot eyes. After a long moment, he spread his hands and shrugged. "All right." 

"All right? Is that all you can say?" 

"Well, if you really want to keep the illusion you're in charge, you could make it an order." 

Alec grinned crookedly. There was no humour in it. "I can't hear you, soldier." 

Rhys laughed outright, pulling Alec into a bear hug. "Yes, sir." 

"Now, that's more like it." Alec pulled back enough to look directly into Rhys' eyes. "If we find a facility and put together a treatment, I'll be right there with you. You won't have to find out the answers to those questions alone." 

Rhys nodded once, sharply, then hugged Alec again. 

"Uncle Alec?" Noah pulled at his shirt. 

"What's up, Squirt?" He dropped to one knee beside the little boy. Rhys turned away and busied himself at the sink. 

Noah's nose wrinkled. "They're loud," he declared grumpily. 

The sounds of the general fight had definitely increased. TeaCup slunk into the kitchen as carefully as a dog the size of a pony could, throwing herself under the two-seater table with an aggrieved grunt. Noah sat down and leaned back on her. She raised her head to give him a lick before resting her muzzle on her paws and giving every sign of going to sleep. 

A particularly loud roar (Logan, Alec noted absently) was followed by a resounding crash. Noah yawned. "That sounded like Mummy," he said. Rhys shook his head in bemusement. 

Alec took a deep breath and headed back to the other room. The tableau was amusing; Max stood over Zane, shaking her finger in his face and looking like she was chastising a cat; Andrews, sitting beside Zane, was wiping water from his face and looking as though he'd rather be caught in a lion's den than between those particular transgenics; Dalton, Johan, and Logan stood in a whirlwind of wildly gesticulating hands. Dalton had apparently used the marker to punctuate his point, since there was a large black dot in the middle of Logan's chest. 

He waited til a minute lull in the chaos, then said softly into it, "That's enough." 

Silence. 

He could hear his own pulse; and that of everyone else in the room. "Ok, guys. Time to calm down. No one here needs to make any decisions right away anyways. The only short timer we have has made his choice. To be blunt, you guys have time to pick what you want." 

Dalton coughed. 

"What?" 

"I believe we'll see an acceleration," he said uncomfortably. "Manticore ramped up faster than they expected with the X-5s. I expect that we'll see that they moved up the kill switch to match their productivity." 

"We won't see it," Alec stated positively. 

"We won't?" 

"No. Cause we're going to beat this thing before it becomes an issue." He swept the room with a glare. 

Zane stretched to his fullest then slowly, deliberately relaxed each muscle until he was slouched on the couch once more, that dangerous electric tension buried back under the lazy facade. Only the tightness around his eyes showed what it cost him to ease down. Still, he looked unimpressed. "Look, Alec," he said softly. "I hear you. But you need to hear me, too. I. Will. Not. Do. It. Not at that price." 

Max strode jerkily to the window and set her back to the room. Her shoulders trembled. Alec spoke to Zane, but his eyes remained on her. 

"No one needs to make a decision right now. Right now, I think we all need some sleep. We're no good to each other like this." Johan made for his room, his expressionless face belied by the tension in his body. Zane rose with easy feline grace and headed for Joshua's door. Max went for the bathroom. Logan followed Johan, asking for the use of his cot. Dalton capped his marker slowly, twisting it in his fingers. Andrews looked around as if a bed would materialise in front of his eyes if he only wished hard enough. 

"Not you two," Alec touched his arm, gestured at Dalton. "You guys need to find me a lab." 

"Um." Andrews spread his hands. "I've been a regular joe for years. Where would I get a lab?" 

Logan reappeared, cell in hand. He extended it to Andrews. "It's for you." 

Andrews took the phone with a long blink, placing it against his ear gingerly. "Andrews," he snapped. There was a mutter back, male. A wide grin spread across his face. "Johanssen," he said beautifically. "Have I got a deal for you." 

"Well, this definitely qualifies as a lab." 

Logan whistled softly at Zane's understatement as he took in the blindingly clean facility. Stainless steel countertops, cabinets, and instruments lined the walls. The floor was slick white tile. The scent of bleach was like a stinging cloud as they breathed. 

"I hate that smell." Zane wrinkled his nose eloquently. "Only bad things happen when there is bleach involved." 

"I guess that makes me one of the bad things." An unimpressive man swiveled out of a nearby doorway. He was remarkable only in the oily smile on his face. 

"Johannsen." Andrews stepped from behind Zane's suddenly protective stance. Logan noted he didn't offer to shake hands. 

"You brought friends." Johannsen's smile didn't change. 

"It kept me out of costume." Zane paced the perimeter of the room, long powerful legs making the room seem smaller than it was. He ducked into the doorway Johannsen had used, emerging a moment later with a nod to Logan. Johannsen's smile slipped into a frown of incomprehension. 

Dalton ignored everyone to head to the computer station and the attached equipent, trusting Zane to handle the facility's security. He looked back over his shoulder at Logan after rapidly scanning the devices there. "It's good," he said. 

"I told you it would be." Johannsen replied irritably. "Now, I want everything you've got on this 'kill switch' of yours." 

Logan reached into his pocket and withdrew a small optical disc. He tossed it casually to the other man, sidehand, like a frisbee. Johannsen caught it deftly. "It isn't 'our' kill switch," he corrected. 

"I'm surprised that you weren't able to find anything in the files from Ashkovich's place." Zane was now methodically checking the contents of each cabinet. "I remember that what Manticore provided was the full deal. Why wouldn't that be included?" 

"Well, Mr. Kimakis," Johannsen's drawl made the name an insult, "It seems that when someone provided us the location of the compound, he neglected to mention the state of the place." 

Zane smirked. 

"Kimakis?" Dalton stage-whispered at him. "Your last name is Kimakis?" 

"The one I was using at the time." He continued rummaging. Logan watched impassively. 

Johannsen flipped the disc between his fingers a few times before withdrawing a small device from his pocket and inserting it smoothly. He examined the screen minutely, then nodded sharply. "This is everything?" 

"It is." 

"Good." Johannsen slipped the device back into his pocket. "I'll be leaving then. You have six days, and then I'll start sending you personnel to fix for me." 

"What if we're not ready in six days?" 

Johannsen smiled unpleasantly. "That would be bad." 

"Are you threatening us?" Zane was just suddenly _there_ , invading the other man's space. 

He didn't flinch, looking up to meet Zane's eyes coolly. "Not at all, Mr. Kimakis. From what I understand, the impetus from my threat would be paltry beside that within your own ranks. How many more will you lose, simply from those six little days?" 

Zane's face tightened minutely. Whatever it was in his gaze this time had Johanssen backing up hurriedly. "Don't worry about the people I'm going to lose," he growled, "worry about the ones you will if you threaten these people again." 

Johannsen headed for the door. "It's nice to know where you draw the line, Mr Kimakis. Such a wealth of information from talking to you. A pleasure as always." 

He left. 

"Damn." Dalton shot Zane a look that was half admiration, half fear. 

"Am I the only one who feels like that last bit was an insult?" Logan made his way to the computers, pushing Dalton's bulk aside to take a look at the screen. 

Andrews didn't join in on the humour. "He doesn't like you much." 

"He thinks I fucked him over." Zane shrugged, staring at the door a little too hard. "I can't really blame him." 

"Blame is irrelevant. The man is a snake." Andrews walked over to stand where the others couldn't hear. "I know you rattled him, but that will just make him more dangerous." He rubbed a hand through his hair nervously. "Stay away from him if you can." 

Zane blinked, the dark menace leaving his eyes like a window blind had been drawn over his thoughts. "As long as I'm here, he's not looking at anyone else." 

"You're being 'noble'." Andrews' lip curled. 

"Being noble isn't a bad thing." 

"No, but it kills like one." 

* * *

"I can't believe you talked me into wearing this." Rhys sounded supremely unimpressed. He sent a sideways glance at Max pacing stone-faced beside him. "Though I probably shouldn't complain, huh?" 

"Not if you wish to survive long enough for the kill switch to get you." 

There was a stunned pause from the rest of the group. Rhys stopped, looking at Max's set face incredulously. They all broke into laughter at the same moment. 

Rhys was Klingon, head to toe. Despite his complaints, he had delved into the costume and his closet with more enthusiasm than Alec had seen from him for years. Why it had contained the *female* skintight pink velour catsuit for Max, Alec had decided he didn't want to know. But every time he watched the sway of those hips, Alec sent his friend a silent 'thank you'. From the looks on Johan's and Rhys' faces, the same thought had crossed their minds a time or two. 

Or ten. 

Alec was dressed in tight dark grey cavalry pants, a loose white shirt, and a beat up black leather vest. A gunbelt rode low on his hip, tied to his lower right thigh with a thin strap. The holster held a Walther. 

Johan completed the quartet. He had dug out a long grey robe made of coarse cotton, and his hair was brushed back away from his face to show off the delicate points on the tips of his ears. They strode up the steps to the convention hall in almost perfect unison. Alec and Rhys staggered their steps into a faintly different cadence with the ease of long practice fighting the ingrained habit of marching in step. 

"When you said a 'con', I think a part of me was convinced you meant like 'confidence game'." Max shook her head. 

"If this isn't a game of confidence, what is it?" Rhys' teeth flashed white in his fake black beard. She glared at him half-heartedly. 

Alec took the extra step necessary to hold open the door for them. "Hold that thought. We're going to need all the confidence we can get." 

They walked into a scene of organised bedlam. It appeared that most of the people attending were fond of costumes, and there were easily over a hundred milling around the lobby of the convention centre. Alec grinned at the sight, sadness at his missing friends a faint echo in the back of his mind. 

"Uncle Alec!" Noah bounded up and threw himself at Alec's legs. The sturdy body almost bowled him over. Joshua followed more decorously, wearing his favourite convention T-Shirt. It was a silk-screen of the 'Dogboy: Wanted Dead or Alive' poster. Joshua loved the conventions because he appeared as a celebrity impersonator, 'dressed up as' the terrifying Dog Boy. He was a sensation every single time. 

Alec scooped Noah up in one arm. "Hey there," he smiled at the little boy before extending his hand to Josh. "Good to see you, too. You sure haven't been around much." 

"Lots to do at the shelter," Joshua explained briefly. "But I can't miss a Con!" 

"Of course not." Rhys shouldered Alec out of the way and spread his arms wide, the gesture encompassing the room. "No one should miss this!" 

"Especially not if they use the right weaponry." Max sighed as the men shot her identical expressions of disapproval. "Fine, fine. It's wonderful. It's awesome. I don't know how I survived without going to them all these years." 

"Me either!" Noah enthused. Max rolled her eyes. 

"How did you manage to infect him so fast?" 

Joshua huffed his amusement at her. "No infection necessary. He's a 'guy'." 

Johan tapped Alec on the shoulder. "We're on in the Carolina room in five minutes." 

Alec looked at his friend's uncharacteristically grave face and handed Noah to Joshua with a parting squeeze. "You guys enjoy the retail section, ok? Keep a lookout for us." 

Max nodded. Rhys stepped away. "I'm going to run the room. Meet you there." 

As they walked to the Carolina room, Alec kept sneaking glances at Johan's set face. He was never a 'smiler' like Joshua or Rhys, but usually he could see the humour lurking under the surface. Johan was typically... tranquil. Well, there was nothing calm about him at the moment. Someone in a large blue furry suit accidentally knocked into him and he cursed. Alec frowned, then pulled Johan into a nearby alcove. 

"What is it?" He decided to cut to the point. 

Johan shrugged and moved to step around him. "We're going to be late." 

"Then we'll be late." Alec's eyes narrowed. 

"Alec, this meeting is important." 

"So is this." 

Johan stared at the wall for a long moment. "I know what you're trying to accomplish here, and I'm behind it a hundred percent." 

Alec's eyebrow raised. "That's why you're upset?" 

"No." He made a chopping motion with his hand. "No, of course not. Look... I'm behind you. But I'm _with_ Zane on this. I'm not going to do it." 

"Why not?" 

Johan looked away. "I was never really one of the group, you know?" 

Alec blinked. "What are you talking about? You were definitely in the unit." 

Johan shook his head impatiently. "I wasn't one of the team, 494. Not like you and 511 were." He lifted his chin defiantly. "I struggled, for a long time. But... Well. 511 was really something." He shrugged. "He was my CO, and he noticed." 

"I never realised." 

"Wasn't your responsibility." Johan shifted, finally meeting Alec's eyes calmly. "He took me aside, and he said: 'Stop trying to be what everyone wants. Pick what **_you_** want, then **_be_** that.' Well, I thought about it, and I decided, and I've been that ever since." 

Alec had nothing to say. 

"I know who I am, Alec. And part of who I am is being transgenic. I don't want to be anyone... or anything... else." 

Alec looked at him a long moment before nodding briefly. "I hear you. So... how does this translate into your current mood?" 

It was Johan's turn to look surprised. "You aren't mad?" 

"Why would I be mad? It's your life." 

Johan blinked slowly. "Ookay." He shrugged. "I feel like a hypocrite. I'm going in there to suggest that these people undergo a procedure to make them human, and it's something I wouldn't do." 

"Do you think Rhys shouldn't do it?" Alec demanded levelly. 

Johan paled. "Hell, no... The guy has somewhere between six days and three weeks left. Of course he should do it." 

Alec clapped him on the shoulder. "There you go." Johan looked confused. "Look, man... I'm no 511. But I agree with him. You have to be who you are. And you're someone who likely has a couple of years left. Many of these people I'm about to talk to have more like days. They need to be who they are too. And if they don't take this treatment, they're about to be dead." 

Johan flashed him a quick, grim smile. "So, let's go." 

* * *

Alec looked at the sea of stunned faces in front of him. Virtually all of the remaining X-series had appeared to hear about what was going on. His presentation had been brief and to the point. Rhys stood impassively at his right shoulder, Johan flanking his left, and the smell of fear and rage was rocking all three of them. He was glad he'd asked Joshua to keep Noah and Max occupied outside at the con. There was no way to predict how either the little boy or Joshua would have reacted to the extreme atmosphere. Despite the roil of barely contained violence, the room was deathly silent. 

When one of the X-5 in the front row finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. "Are you sure?" 

"Of course he's sure." Another voice, this one female, came from the back of the room. "I think the bigger question is 'will it work'?" 

"We believe that it will." Johan replied. 

"When?" A white-faced man asked from the right. Alec identified him as Jack, once X6-772. 

"I have a team working on it now." He spread his hands helplessly. "They are going as fast as they can." 

"Sure!" Someone shouted from the back, fear thick in his voice. "And how long do *they* have left?" 

Rhys stepped forward. "Six days," he said softly. Immediately the room subsided. "I have six days." 

"That's not the question to ask." From the middle of the group, Gem stepped forward. The crowd parted to let her through. "The real question is... How can we help?" 

The twelve days it took to get the facility functioning and the recombinant RNA trials completed passed in a whirl of motion and a miasma of fear. The help of the additional transgenics accelerated the process tremendously, and all of them who were able worked themselves into exhaustion 'perfecting' the process. Most of the transgenics were still in hiding, and had to come in to the lab secretly. The much larger sample space of up-to-date DNA had Dalton working frenetically to map the possible killswitch convergence points in the transgenic code; time he had available only because of the influx of manpower. 

Even with all of the help it was a miracle that they got it working so quickly, and even so it came too late for nine of the waiting transgenics. According to Johannsen's increasingly irritated demands for updates, another five of his team had also succumbed. Their information was added to the bank of DNA information. In the end, it was to no avail. The killswitch remained elusive, and the RNA re-code activation remained the only available option to stave off death. 

Rhys was heartily sick of listening to his friends ask about how he felt. He was even tireder of watching them watch him, trying (and failing) to be surreptitious about it. As much as he dreaded the upcoming procedure, as much as he dreaded the alternative, he still wished for one or the other to happen already, just to make those looks and whispers end. 

Alec could see his friend's frustration rising and felt it with him. He tried to give him space, but that ticking clock in his head would not let him leave Rhys alone for very long. When it hit zero and began counting in the negatives, Alec's tension and that of all the others ratcheted up even further. Rhys was on borrowed time, and every one of them knew it. 

Twelve days. 

Now, at fifteen days, they decided they could wait no longer. Rhys was stretched out on one of the lab's gurneys, covered with a heavy blanket and still shivering. Alec sat at his shoulder, turned so that he could watch both the room and his friend. The room was a sterile white. It looked like what it was: an experimentation room of an expensive lab. It brought back memories for all of them. They all hated the damned place, and Gem had finally brought in several boxes of rugs and fabrics they could hang to make it all more homey. It was a good effort, but it failed. 

"Why the hell do they keep this place so bloody cold?" He demanded for the fourth time, snuggling tighter under the blanket. 

"Because the team found that in rats the procedure was seventy percent more effective when the temperature was kept at or below eight celsius," Alec replied calmly from within the warmth of his lined leather jacket. "And since you have so much rat in your code..." 

"Rats, right. I've always hated rats. Now I know why. Bastards." He shuddered. "And why do I have to be naked again? Since this is an _injection_ and all?" 

"That's so all the women can check you out while you're unconscious," Max grinned at him over Alec's shoulder. "You're hot, after all." 

Rhys flashed a grin. His lips were turning blue. "Better not be be looking now, then. I'm cold enough that you'd all be disappointed." 

Max smirked. 

Alec hid his sigh of relief as Rhys relaxed minutely with Max's teasing. Once they'd run the tests on the rats they'd known roughly what to expect, but the first transgenic to take the treatment had proved all their hopes - and fears - to be true. 

The treatment was agonizing. The rats had writhed, and they'd assumed it was muscle contraction from effectively re-writing the genetic code at a cellular level. The first transgenic had confirmed this theory, and that the process was excruciatingly painful. Alec could still hear his screams as they'd all fought to hold him in place long enough to sedate him into oblivion. The subsequent treatments had been performed under full anaesthesia, but still the EEG revealed that the subjects experienced agony for days while the treatment did its work. So far, no one had woken up, though three were starting to show signs of consciousness. 

The good news was that the procedure worked. All of the five who underwent the procedure were showing wholly human DNA characteristics. Their physical appearance remained mostly unchanged, but their constituent parts were fundamentally different. It remained only to verify that their minds and personalities were intact. 

Alec would have been a lot happier if even one of them had completed the process before Rhys started. He realised the inherently selfish nature of the thought, and dismissed the guilt that came with it as irrelevant. He was who he was, and that person cared first about Rhys. 

He focussed on that now. "Only a few more minutes," he said. 

"Good. At least once I'm under I won't know how cold I am any more." 

Alec smiled crookedly. "I'll bet you wake up still bitching about it." 

"I'll take that action." Dalton spoke up from the doorway. The cheerful tone of his voice was belied by the dark circles under his eyes and the gravity of his expression. He'd fought to delay further, to allow at least one subject to awaken before trying Rhys. In their own way, they were all showing where he lay in their affections, and Alec knew Rhys appreciated it. As much as he wanted to shoot them all to make them stop hovering, he still appreciated it. 

"About time! Much longer and I wouldn't have been able to call myself a man anymore!" Rhys complained. 

"Hon, someone could chop it off and no one would ever mistake you for anything other than male." Max patted his shoulder. 

Rhys shuddered for real this time. "That isn't nearly as reassuring as you meant it to be." 

"Don't worry, big guy. I know where the needle goes." Dalton went over to the set of biomonitors and methodically began hooking Rhys to each of them. As the sensors were put into place he became serious. "These will tell us everything your body experiences as it undergoes the change. There will be someone watching them every minute to ensure that nothing goes wrong." He flashed a quick smile. "Or, that if something does go wrong, we know about it and fix it immediately." 

"All right. Enough foreplay." Rhys took a deep breath as the IV needle entered his arm. His eyes met Alec's, warm with affection. "'Hit me, already.'" Alec smiled back in appreciation. 

"Just one more thing," Dalton said, finger poised over the plunger of the anaesthetic. Rhys lifted an eyebrow at him. "Sweet dreams," he said, and pressed. 

Alec was waiting for it. When he saw the flash of fear through Rhys's eyes as the drugs began to take effect, he grabbed his hand and held on tightly. "See you soon," he said firmly. 

Rhys nodded sluggishly, his eyes already growing unfocussed. "Bye," he said, and was gone.  


* * *

It was like swimming deep, deep underwater, he decided. 

Deeply enough that there was no light. Deeply enough that there was nothing at all, except pressure. And cold. And darkness. And pain... 

Deeply enough that his air supply only sufficed to make him dizzy. He couldn't get a good breath. The pressure on his body was too great. 

Perhaps he _was_ swimming. Perhaps he was too far down to ever reach the surface again... 

It was like being born, he decided. 

There was no light. There was nothing, nothing at all except pressure. And cold. And darkness. And pain... 

He couldn't catch his breath. The pressure was too great. 

Perhaps he _was_ being born. Perhaps he was breech. Perhaps he would never reach the air... 

It was like being buried alive, he decided. 

Buried so far down that there was no light. So far down that there was no air, preventing him from taking a breath. So far down that the chill of the earth sapped his strength. 

The pressure beat at him from all sides. 

Like being buried alive... 

Rhys lunged awake in an icy cascade of terror. Restraints prevented him from moving far, taking him back to Ashkovich's compound in a horrified instant. A tube protruded from his mouth, and the pressure he felt on his chest came from it. The pressure increased into agony. 

He was buried alive! The fear slammed him down like a wave breaking. 

Rhys lost it. 

He went wild, fighting the restraints with all the power in his body. The bed rocked violently on its wheels, threatening to topple. 

"Jesus Christ!" Alec rocketed into the room and threw himself onto Rhys's writhing body. "Hey! HEY! Need help, here!" 

Rhys continued to thrash. The extra weight seemed to add to his fury and he fought even more ferociously. Zane raced in, grabbed Rhys' other shoulder and pushed down. It took all his strength and all his weight to force the shoulder back down to the sheets. 

"Rhys!" A flailing elbow caught Alec in the eye and he cursed loudly. "Rhys! Damn it! Look at me!" Several of the lines connecting to the monitors came loose. The monitors shrilled their warnings and added to the cacaphony. 

Logan and Dalton were next into the room. Logan grabbed for Rhys' legs while Dalton made a beeline for the counter where a selection of sedation medications were lined up for easy access. 

"No!" Alec shouted at Dalton, face red with effort as Rhys rocked him again. He let go to grab Rhys' face between his hands, holding his head still with all his strength and a hearty dose of sheer determination. "529! **Rhys** , you bastard! Look at me right now!" 

In a response so deeply ingrained it couldn't be denied, Rhys froze. His chest heaved frantically, and he shook visibly with the effort required to regain control, but slowly a thread of sanity returned to the dark eyes. Under Alec's hands his face was slick with sweat. His hands fisted as he fought back the fear. 

"You hear me? Blink if you hear me." Alec asked hoarsely. Rhys blinked slowly, as if he was afraid a sudden movement would be too much for his frayed control. Zane took a deep breath and marginally released his weight from the shoulder he was holding down. Rhys quivered at the movement, his eyes wavering slightly. Zane stilled immediately. 

"You have a tube in your throat to help you breathe. You don't need it anymore, so it hurts. Dalton is going to take it out, right now," Alec told him firmly. Dalton came up into his field of view and placed a hand warily on his chest. Rhys shivered but remained still, eyes locked on Alec's. 

"The restraints were because you convulsed a few times," Dalton told him carefully. "They're coming off as soon as I get this tube out. OK?" 

Rhys blinked agreement, gaze never wavering from Alec. Alec softened his grip on his head, noting the redness that would bloom into bruises under the dark skin. He winced in sympathy. 

"OK. When I tell you, take a deep breath in, then breathe out as hard as you can. It'll hurt, but I'll be quick." Dalton told him. Rhys flicked him a glance and immediately felt his equilibrium shift. The panic surged forward. Alec's fingers tightened, forcing the fear back. 

"Just do it already," Alec said. 

"Now." 

Rhys took the deepest breath he could with Zane and Alec still leaning on him, then blew it out as hard as he could. At the same time Dalton pulled on the tube in a single smooth movement. As the breathing tube came out of his throat it felt as though it was taking his lungs with it. The pain was excruciating but mercifully quick. He started to choke. 

Logan had already released the restraints on his legs by the time Dalton was done. Immediately he moved to the waist and wrist restraints. As each was undone Rhys relaxed minutely more. As the last was removed, all of the men around him stepped back in unison. 

Rhys shoved himself upright, heaving for breath and for control. "Jesus," he rasped faintly, wrapping his arms around his torso fiercely as if holding himself together. He was wracked with full-body shudders of reaction. Both hands burrowed through his hair before returning to hugging himself. 

The others exchanged a glance before dispersing to find chairs. A hand landed tentatively on his shoulder and he glanced up. Dalton smiled at him. "I need to check you out, then I'll get you some water. Don't try to talk until then, ok? It'll just hurt more." He nodded understanding and buried his head in his arms, still shaking. 

"Man, I can not tell you how happy I am you finally woke up," Logan ventured softly. "Couldn't have my favourite blood donor entirely out of action, could I?" He paused. "Though I guess this means I don't get to inherit your camera phone?" 

Rhys glanced at him and tried a smile. It hurt. "How long?" His voice sounded like a rusty razor. 

"Stop talking." Dalton admonished. 

Zane answered him. "Nine days," he said. 

Since he wasn't allowed to talk, Rhys whistled softly. Dalton frowned. "No whistling either," he said, listening to Rhys' breathing. 

Rhys swallowed hard as the group returned to a silence that was deafening after the previous commotion. One monitor beeped forlornly. 

"Looks good," Dalton pronounced. "Let's get you that water." Rhys shot him an eloquent look. "Yeah, yeah... 'duh'." Dalton rolled his eyes. Logan stood and went to get some. 

"You tracking now?" Zane was watching him closely, and he was sure the other man didn't miss the periodic shivers still coursing through him. Despite them, he nodded. "Good. All I can say is, if that's how you react to claustrophobia, I'm extra glad you held it together in that vent." 

The bolt of rage took him completely by surprise, and he glared at Zane hotly. His body actually moved as if to attack before he managed to stop himself. Zane looked startled, and it was no more shocked than Rhys felt. He looked at Alec, confusion on his face. 

"We're not sure how the process will affect you yet," Alec carefully said, frowning. "We know that you're now physiologically completely human, according to the DNA assays. But we're not entirely sure what that will translate into for you." 

It took several tries to get the word out through his abused throat. When it did come, it was barely audible and hurt like hell. "Others?" 

"Where's that water?" Alec asked loudly at the open doorway, then turned back to face him. "The others who entered the treatment before you have woken up, except one. We lost her." He heaved a sigh. "They are all affected uniquely by the process. We have physiological changes, psychological changes." He shook his head in frustration. "For a last resort, I have to say that this one really sucked." 

Logan came in with the water. Rhys took a long drink, savouring the taste and the cold liquid soothing the abrasions in his throat. It made his chest feel better too somehow. He licked chapped lips and took another drink. Dalton touched his hand. 

"Go slowly on that, man. It's been a long time since you had water in your stomach." 

He nodded, knowing that already. An instant later, Dalton grabbed his wrist. His hand had lifted the bottle to drink anyway. Dalton raised an eyebrow and took the it away from him. "Try standing up," he said. 

Rhys dragged his legs over the edge of the bed and slid cautiously from its support. His legs held, and he grinned widely. "Hey! They work!" He shuffled in a circle, head down as he watched his feet in delight. 

Alec drew an audible breath behind him. Rhys tried to turn too quickly to face him and ended up in an ungraceful heap on the bed. Zane laughed. "What?" Rhys demanded in irritation. 

Alec stood, leaned until he could see the back of Rhys' neck clearly. "Dalton?" 

"What?" Rhys asked again. 

Dalton came and looked. Zane and Logan crowded close to see as well. They all ignored him. It was too much, too fast. The rage returned in a blinding flash. 

"WHAT!?" Rhys shoved them away from him with all his strength. As quickly as it came, the impulse was gone. 

"Sorry, sorry." Dalton's eyes were wide in fascination. "It's your tattoo." He grinned reluctantly. "We can see your tattoo." 

"My barcode? You can see my barcode?" He blinked rapidly. "How can that be if I'm all human?" 

"Not your barcode, man. Your _tattoo_. The one you got to cover up the barcode. It's there." Alec smirked, then laughed. "It's bright." 

"What the hell? Someone bring me a mirror." Rhys twisted and tried to look once before he realised how ludicrous the attempt would be. 

"It's because the process worked," Dalton said wonderingly. "We undid the barcode, and now that the dark tone is gone, the visual interference pattern doesn't exist anymore. All we see is the tattoo. And yeah," a wide smile broke across his face, "it is _bright_ " 

"Of course it's bright," Rhys muttered sourly, "the damned complimentary colours were fluourescent for me." 

"Well, we're going to have to re-code that part with a genetic virus - or remove the tattoo." Dalton told him. "But it'll leave a scar." 

"A _scar_?" Rhys was scandalised. 

Logan grimaced in genuine sympathy, grasping the depth of the change his friend was faced with. "Welcome to the human race," he said softly. 

* * *

Alec didn't want to leave the room, but Rhys was plainly still exhausted from the process. He ushered the entire group from the room and settled for watching surreptitiously through the window. Rhys settled into a blessedly normal sleep quickly. 

"There are some changes," Logan murmured into his ear. 

"He's in the best shape of anyone so far," Alec replied just as softly. "He came down from the panic pretty fast, and he seems to be all there. No basic personality shift. Cranky, but that's to be expected." 

"Let's hope that's all it is." Dalton commented. In all their minds was the utterly broken third subject. He'd woken in a panic, and three days later was still screaming every time the sedation wore off. 

"I have faith in him." An involuntary grin twitched at Alec's lips as he got another glimpse of the tattooed barcode all but glowing on the back of Rhys' neck. 

Logan followed his gaze. "We'll have to do something about that." 

"Yeah," Dalton's amusement was in his voice. "The others, too, now that we thought to look." He laughed softly. "I never realised before but Rhys was the first to go with short hair." 

"Likely a holdover from our hiding out days. Rhys never liked long hair, though. He cut it as soon as he could." 

"Hey, he's awake. He's alive. He's intact. He lucked out. Based on the projections he'd only have had another three days, tops." Logan clapped a hand on Alec's shoulder. "Even with the changes, he's a smart guy. He knows there weren't any other options." 

Alec nodded, throat tight. 

"And he's tough. Damned tough. There were times I wasn't sure..." Dalton's voice broke off unsteadily. He took a deep breath. "I wasn't sure that we were going to be able to keep him." 

"Me either." Alec turned to face Dalton, clasping his hand and shaking it firmly. "You've done a great job here. And for Rhys..." He paused for an instant. "Thank you." 

Logan grinned and gently poked a finger at the darkening bruise around Alec's eye. "Looks like he packs a mean punch, even as human." 

A commotion at the front of the lab drew their attention. A newcomer had squared off with Zane, who was looking large, threatening, and darkly amused. They exchanged identical looks of resignation and headed for the rapidly degenerating situation. 

"Go ahead. I thought you were here to have your life extended, not cut short," Zane was saying as they approached. "But if you really want to go that route instead I'll be happy to oblige." 

"Bastard," the new man all but spat at him. "You're the reason I have to be here." 

Zane shrugged dismissively. "I just gave your boss what he wanted. You want a reason you're here? Go talk to him." 

The man gave an inarticulate noise of rage and charged. Alec intercepted him inches from Zane's unmoving bulk. Zane didn't flinch, just kept looking at the man with that irritatingly amused grin. "Hey, buddy. Back off." Alec shoved the guy away. He stayed where he landed, breathing heavily but apparently coming down from the anger high. "We're here to help you. It'd be a shame if Johanssen's last candidate got himself killed over nothing." 

"Nothing! My squad is dead. That's not nothing." 

"Man, almost half of my entire **race** has been wiped out by this thing. You have nothing to complain about. Now get to your room before I take you out myself!" By the end, Alec was shouting. Zane turned away, smile gone. The man glared, but followed Dalton when he gestured the way. "And you. Stop provoking them, damn it." 

"I have my reasons," Zane replied without looking at him. 

"And I have enough on my plate without worrying about fights starting in the middle of the lab. Or about having to explain to Johanssen about yet another dead soldier. I'm having enough trouble with the ones who are legitimately dying off without adding murdered ones to the list." 

"It's his last one. And, it would have been self-defense." Zane grinned at him playfully. 

Alec smiled back involuntarily, then shook his head and reminded himself he was mad. "It would have been stupid. Leave them alone." 

"Fine. Take all my fun." Zane heaved a sigh. "I'll just go sit with Rhys instead." 

"He's fine. Sleeping normally." 

"I like to make sure for myself." Zane saw the look on Alec's face and shrugged. "What can I say? I like him." He strode away to Rhys' room. 

"Yeah, we know." Logan muttered at Zane's back. "He has that effect on people."  
  


* * *

Zane settled into the single comfortable chair in Rhys' room, automatically turning the chair to have a view of the open door and the window as well as Rhys' bundled form. For a claustrophobe he sure seemed to enjoy being tightly wrapped in his blankets, he noted with a private grin. Maybe he was still feeling the psychological effects of the cold room where the procedure had taken place. 

Then again, maybe he just liked to be warm. 

The room was pleasantly dark. He could make out the contours of the machines and of Rhys' face, but the details were comfortably soft. He tilted his head back and deliberately relaxed every muscle. 

"I can't stop shaking." 

Zane jumped at the unexpected voice. Rhys's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling fixedly. "You feel cold?" 

"No. Yes. No." He shrugged minutely. "I don't know. But it's freaking me out." 

Zane scooted the chair closer to the bed and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Give yourself a break. You just woke up after nine days being unconscious with only Dalton knows what crawling through your body, rewriting you one cell at a time. You deserve a chance to vibrate a bit." 

Rhys laughed. It was a dark sound Zane had never heard from him before. "I thought I was buried alive. When I woke up." 

"I can see that would be disconcerting." Zane tilted his head, regarding him more closely. "It certainly seemed to get your attention." 

Rhys laughed again, a more natural sound. "Yeah, you could say that all right." His hands shook the blanket loose, ran down the handles of the gurney bed. "Solid bed." 

"You gave it a good workout," Zane agreed. His eyes narrowed on the strange smile on Rhys' face. "Gave us a good workout too. You're a big guy." 

"Remember Ashkovich's compound? That table, man. That was a tough-assed table." 

Suddenly Zane understood. "I remember." He leaned closer. "You made short work of that one. Pulled it apart, welds and all." 

Rhys turned his head and faced him eye to eye. His expression was bleak. "I barely rocked this thing." 

Zane pursed his lips, thinking. Slowly he leaned back in his seat, rubbing his chin. "You aren't what you were," he finally said bluntly. "You aren't going to be that again. Ever." 

Rhys' breath left him in a rush of sound. He swallowed hard. "I don't know how to be anything else," he admitted painfully. 

"Me either." Zane leaned forward again. "You're a braver man than I am. I won't do it. Can't. Won't. Doesn't matter." 

"What if I'm not braver? What if I _was_?" 

"What if you are?" Zane smiled at him. "I've known you at your best and worst, Rhys. The parts of you that make you who you are... those can't be affected by a procedure." He spread his hands, palms up. "We just need to see what parts of you are left." He raised an eyebrow and outright grinned. "The girls tell us all the best pieces are still intact." 

Rhys blinked in shock at the abrupt change of tone, then laughed uproariously. It took him several minutes to stop. Zane just smiled at him the entire time. "Oh, man," he finally gasped. "That hurt. You bastard." 

"You aren't the first to say so." Zane sprawled back in his chair, tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. They shared a long moment of companionable silence. 

"Hey, Zane?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thanks, man."  
  


* * *

"So. I'm ready to get out of here?" Rhys looked up at Max hopefully. 

"Sure looks like it," she told him with a smile. 

Three days had passed in a blur of tests, visits, and exhausted sleep. Dalton was still frowning at some of his results, but couldn't put his finger on the source of his unease. The psychological testing had all come back consistent with his earlier responses, though there seemed to be some minor anomalies. Physically, he was in great shape... for a human. The virus to re-process his barcode had executed flawlessly and he no longer glowed in the dark, much to his relief. 

Now, it was time to get out of the bleach-scented, white-walled, overly-clean, too-loud hell-hole. Rhys was damned tired of the four walls of this room. So much so that he'd begun taking trips to the bathroom simply to inject variety into his life. 

He'd noticed that his patience for... well, anything... seemed to have suffered damage, even if his psyche hadn't. 

Right at the moment, he was experiencing an entirely different issue. 

Max's grin lit up her whole face; she practically glowed. He'd always noticed her beauty. What man wouldn't? But he'd also always noticed that she seemed to be all eyes for Alec. 

His hand lifted, and he drew her down to sit on the bed. She blinked, but complied willingly enough. 

That focus on Alec would have been enough to keep Rhys' hands to himself, even if Rhys himself hadn't understood the fundamentally incompatible nature of their personalities. But he did understand it. They were all wrong. Even for a single night. Even for a single instant. Max was absolutely, positively, no question, hands off. 

His hand slid up her arm, over her shoulder. He trailed a single finger up the rapidly-beating pulse in her neck to cup the curve of her cheek. Max's eyes widened and her lips parted in a combination of shock and protest. 

He knew all of these things. Believed them, even. 

His libido didn't agree. 

Rhys slid his hand behind her neck and kissed her. His tongue stroked lightly over her lips, and for the barest instant he felt her sway towards him. 

The next instant she was across the room, hand over her mouth, staring at him like she'd never seen him before. 

There was a noise at the door. Alec stood frozen, the expression on his whitened face showing clearly that he'd seen. 

Rhys blinked, shook his head sharply as the compulsion left him. "What..." He tried again. "What was that? What was that? What.." He stared at Alec in absolute horror. "Alec. Jesus." 

"I'd like to know, too." Alec's voice was the utter emptiness he developed when he was afraid. Or enraged. 

"Alec. Get Dalton. Please." Rhys swallowed hard and pushed himself as far from Max as he could get, wedging himself against the wall. He watched Alec process his confusion. The anger drained from his friend. "There is something very, very wrong with me."  
  


* * *

"Here." Dalton tapped an area of the MRI. "The right lower frontal lobe. In both humans and animals it manages inhibition, among other things." 

"And?" Rhys demanded impatiently. Alec placed a hand on his shoulder and he subsided. 

"And it has been rewritten." Dalton gestured at the picture, pointing to a region coloured blue. "Originally, you had a large proportion of canine DNA in your makeup. In the brain, it translated into being 'trainable'; a desire to take orders, if you will." Dalton turned serious eyes on his friend. "Now it's been re-written in the image of your grandfather. Seems he was more on the 'untrainable' side. Your inhibition level is now much lower than before. If you'd grown up with it you'd have learned how to handle it. But for you," Dalton shook his head. "You'll need to learn now." 

"How did we miss this before?" Alec did not sound happy. 

"There is nothing physiologically wrong. We knew there would be changes. And Rhys is not psychologically different either. He's just... not in full control of himself right now." 

"Stop saying 'he'. I'm right here," Rhys snapped. Alec's hand tightened. 

"Sorry," Dalton shot him an apologetic smile. "What's going to happen is you'll see something, or feel something, and you'll want to react a particular way. Where before you might have stopped, now you're more likely to give in to the impulse. Whatever it might be." 

"How terribly human of me." Rhys muttered humourously. "In both senses of the term." 

"Very." Dalton grinned back. "It's not sociopathic or anything. Or, no more than you were before. You still have a conscience and a sense of right and wrong. You're just a little less likely to listen to it." 

"A little," he snorted. 

"Ok. A lot." 

Alec released his shoulder. "I'm glad it's nothing worse." He heaved a relieved breath. "But, until you get hold of it, stay away from Max." 

"Deal." 

* * *

Alec watched Rhys pack with worried eyes. He knew his efforts to hide his concern were failing miserably, but that was typical where Rhys was involved. His ability to pull that cold void around his emotions just didn't extend to his best friend. 

Rhys packed just as efficiently as ever, having spent more than half his life on the road. The motions were the same, the body making them was the same, the expressions were the same, but the mind behind them was not. Not... quite. The differences were subtle. 

And disturbing. 

"Stop looking at me like that." 

"Like what?" Alec kept his voice deliberately light. 

"Like you want to put me on a table, dose me with ether, and dissect me to find out how I tick." He was relieved to see the grin tug at Rhys' mouth. 

"I know how you tick already. No mysteries remain." He laughed. 

"Damn. Now our chances of a life together are over." Rhys sighed in mock dismay. "I think..." 

A scream interrupted him. 

Alec and Rhys exchanged a single, stunned look and bolted for the door. 

They raced down the long hallway of the lab's patient rooms, toward the continuing sounds of shouting. A dark-clad figure had one of the patients slung over his shoulder and was running impossibly fast for the doorway. He burst through it, giving Alec and Rhys a brief view of a struggling knot of people on the far side before it banged shut. Alec put on a burst of speed and made it to the doorway a breath later, but was too late. He hit the door at full speed and grunted in pain when it remained closed. "Shit! He blocked the door." 

The shouting on the other side had changed to the sounds of a general brawl. A thud rang against the door hard enough to shake the frame. 

The two men exchanged a look of pure frustration then threw their weight against the door in unison, without success. Alec stepped back and kicked it with all his strength. The door vibrated but held. 

"What the hell is this thing made of?" Rhys asked, heaving for breath. 

"Steel, feels like," Alec muttered, shaking off the painful tingle in his leg. 

The melee on the other side of the door continued. Suddenly there was the distinctive sound of a 9mm Glock being fired twice. Silence fell, followed shortly by the sound of running footsteps. 

"The wall," Rhys hissed urgently. "Go through the wall!" 

Alec raced into the nearest room and started tapping the wall rapidly. Satisfied, he took a couple of steps back and then charged it at full speed. The wallboard gave with a satisfying crack. An instant later, Rhys was ripping at the wall with his hands, pulling the drywall away in huge chunks. Alec kicked the inside of the wall, driving his foot straight out the other side. 

A moment later they emerged into a scene of frozen chaos. Bodies lay scattered around the main room of the lab, clearly as they had fallen. The door to the street was still swinging on its hinges, a large bullet hole in its centre. A swirl of smoke showed the remnants of a chemical grenade. The transgenics been taken out by gas. Alec immediately knelt beside Max, checking her pulse frantically. Rhys dropped to his knee beside Logan, placing two fingers hard against his throat. 

"She's alive." Alec gathered Max against him in a protective embrace and closed his eyes gratefully. 

"No breathing," Rhys declared expressionlessly, shifting into crisis mode without a beat. He paused. "No pulse. Beginning CPR." He ripped Logan's shirt open and began compressions, counting off with professional precision. 

"Jesus!" Alec released Max gently, scrambled to Rhys. Logan's eyes were open, his face slack. 

"I've got this. Check the others. Get the crash cart." 

Alec nodded. Max moaned, and he spared her a glance. "Looks like Max is waking up." 

"... thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Breathe." Rhys tilted Logan's head back, breathed for him twice, checked again. "No breathing. No pulse. Resuming compressions." 

"Logan?" Max shot awake. 

"This one is good." The body Alec was assessing stirred. He moved on. "And this one." 

"What the hell happened?" Max knelt beside Rhys' dutifully pumping form. Already sweat was beginning to bead his forehead. CPR was hard work. 

"You need to tell us," Alec said from across the room. "Cleared two more." 

"Fourteen, fifteen. Breathe." 

Max moved to help. Before her hand reached Logan's head, her wrist was clamped in an iron grip. Rhys pulled her hand away. "The virus, Max." 

"Right, right." She pulled back and let Rhys work, then looked around the room. There were only six others there. Gem, Dalton, and four people she didn't immediately recognize. Gem was sitting and shaking her head before Alec even reached her. The other four were all moving. Dalton wasn't. 

Gem raised her head, glanced around. "Where's Zane?" 

Alec reached Dalton's side, reached down to check his pulse. "What do you mean?" 

"Zane?" Max echoed. Rhys looked up from his compressions. 

"Took... him." Dalton gritted, his voice pain-filled. Alec helped him roll and gasped at the sight of blood staining most of the front of his shirt. "They... took... Zane." Alec immediately placed both hands over the gunshot wound and pressed with all his body weight. 

"Who?" Rhys sat back on his heels and let Gem take over the compressions. He waited at Logan's head for the next instruction to breathe. 

"Reds." Blood ran from the corner of Dalton's mouth. The group of transgenics were now all tracking again. One of them ran into the treatment room for a crash cart for Logan. Another returned with a pile of gauze dressings and dropped to her knees beside Dalton. Alec leaned back. Immediately there was a fresh flow of blood from the wound. Dalton twitched in pain. He turned his head, saw Gem working on Logan. "Logan?" 

"VSA." Rhys told him. "Likely a reaction to the gas." 

Dalton shook his head violently. "No." He gasped as the gauze pads were applied with heavy pressure. "No. Not the Reds. He collapsed." 

"Collapsed?" Alec brushed sweat from his eyes with one forearm, leaving a broad blood smear across his forehead. "Doesn't matter. Stop talking. We need to get this bleeding under control." He gestured to the woman helping him. "Call an ambulance, already. Hurry!" 

Dalton grabbed his arm. "Alec. Important." He took a deep breath, winced. "Not the gas. He stopped. He just... stopped." 

Alec looked into the green eyes searchingly, feeling the urgency behind Dalton's words. "Ok." He said soothingly. "I hear you. He stopped." 

Dalton closed his eyes and relaxed into unconsciousness. Sirens blared ever louder as they neared the building. 

"Fourteen, fifteen. Breathe." Gem paused to let Rhys breathe for Logan, checking her watch. "Six minutes down." Rhys placed his fingers against Logan's throat, waited. He shook his head. 

"Damn it!" Alec shouted. "Why Logan, of all people? 

"Alec," said Rhys softly. "I think he means, he _stopped_." 

Max got there first. "The kill switch?" 

Alec stared at them both in shock, then back down at Dalton. "The _kill switch_? That makes no sense. Logan's human. He can't have the kill switch." 

The sirens were just outside. The lights of the ambulance strobed the room in red and blue. 

Alec lifted his eyes to Rhys'. Their dark depths were filled with anguish. His mind raced, tracing implications, tracing relationships. Dalton had to be wrong. It couldn't be the kill switch. It couldn't. If it was the kill switch, that would mean... that it was a virus. Or bacteria. Or otherwise contagious. Or in the human part of the code... And that would mean... That would mean... 

"It isn't over." Rhys completed his thought painfully. 

Alec looked at the only human he'd been close to in the past seven years, watched Gem pump his chest mechanically. He honestly didn't know whether to scream or cry at the unfairness of it all. Max was sobbing openly now. Her fingers trembled just above Logan's hand, still afraid to touch him, just in case. He closed his eyes, leaned harder on Dalton's still seeping wound. 

"Damn." 

It had been a long day and a longer night. Dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky when they all collected back at the apartment. All of them that were left. 

Alec dropped into the overstuffed white chair and sprawled with exhaustion. Noah promptly crawled onto his lap and cuddled against his chest. Reflexively one arm curled around the little boy protectively. Max leaned over and ruffled her son's dark hair. Teacup wandered over, snuffled Alec, then dropped to lay at his feet. 

Johan sat back in the other chair, heaving a sigh of relief. Blood spotted the snowy white of his dress shirt. He'd gotten to the lab just before the police and had reverted to his battle medic training as he worked feverishly to staunch Dalton's two wounds. One in the chest had penetrated a lung before riccocheting through the young man's vitals. The other had struck his collarbone and come to rest against his spinal cord. They'd managed to remove both the bullets and had stabilised him, but he wasn't completely out of danger. Plus, he was still unconscious. The bullet hadn't entirely expended its energy when it struck his spine, and the swelling had put enough pressure on his brain that they'd placed him in a coma for his own protection. 

Rhys hoped he wasn't dreaming of drowning. 

Andrews took one end of the couch, Joshua the other. Max sat between them. They all looked exhausted. 

Rhys looked around the room and realised darkly that it was the first time they'd had enough seating for everyone since this whole ordeal had started. Every other 'all hands' meeting had meant people sitting on the floor. The memory of why that was made his throat sting. "I'm making coffee," he announced curtly. 

Alec heaved a sigh, the arm around Noah tightening into a hug. He buried his nose in the little boy's hair, taking a deep breath of the clean childish scent. "I miss my Papa," Noah said sadly. "When will he be home?" 

Max blinked back tears. 

"As soon as he can," Alec told him gently. "You know he doesn't want to be away, right?" 

"I know." Noah snuggled closer to Alec's neck. "You smell like him. Different. But like." 

Alec raised his other hand to stroke Noah's back. "Go to sleep." 

The little boy's breathing deepened as he obeyed. The group sat in uncharacteristic silence, all lost in their own thoughts. From the looks on their faces, none of those were pleasant. 

Joshua rose, plucked the soundly asleep Noah from Alec's arms, and disappeared into his room. A moment later he emerged with a nod to Max. He resumed his seat. 

"So, what now?" Andrews finally broke the quiet. 

"We need to stop the treatments." Johan said. "It seemed like a good idea, but..." He shrugged helplessly. "We don't even know if it will work, not long term. And the effects..." He shuddered. "If it doesn't work, the adjustment is not worth it." 

"We need to find Zane," Rhys said firmly from the kitchen. 

"We need to find out what happened to Logan." Alec added. 

"His family has asked that he be cremated." 

They all looked at Max in shock. 

"It's true." She shook her head. "It's scheduled for tomorrow." 

Alec turned his gaze to Johan. "Did you get all the samples we need while you were at the hospital before they took him?" 

Johan nodded. 

Alec closed his eyes, fighting the dark wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm him. His exhaustion made it worse. A hand nudged his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see a cup of hot chocolate in front of him. Rhys handed it over without comment. " I thought you were making coffee?" 

"We all need to sleep," his friend replied. 

"As soon as we get some, it's back to work. You two are going to find where Johanssen has Zane stashed." He stabbed a finger at Johan and Andrews. They nodded tiredly. He turned his attention to Max. "You realise we need to get Noah away from here, right?" She closed her eyes and nodded too. "You and Joshua will take him to Gem. She has two of her own and lives with some other transgenics. They'll keep him safe." 

No one looked happy, but no one looked away either. 

"All right." Alec drained his hot chocolate, knowing they needed something other than this distant efficiency from him but unable to give it to them. "Good night." Max stood with him, stepped close to give him a kiss. He accepted it with a distracted smile, then walked away without looking back. 

Rhys watched Max stare after him, hurt reflected in her dark eyes before she turned to enter Joshua's room. Rustling noises came from within as she joined Noah's sleeping form. 

Johan stood. "Come on, old man," he nudged Joshua's shoulder and startled him out of his half-doze. "You can use my cot." Joshua followed him unprotestingly. Andrews simply stretched out on the couch and an instant later was asleep. 

Rhys glanced around the room, vaguely disquieted. The sensation was unfamiliar, something like the adrenaline high experienced just before battle, but lighter and subtler. More like anticipation mixed with dread. 

He didn't like it. 

He pushed away from the door frame and quickly cleaned up the several days worth of accumulated mess, careful not to wake Andrews. A half hour later the dishes were done, the kitchen was as spotless as it ever was, and the apartment was in reasonably tidy shape. Nevertheless, that restless feeling persisted. 

He missed Zane, damn it. And Dalton. And _Logan_. His chest tightened. 

There was a soft 'woof' from the living room, as though Teacup wanted his attention but was also concerned with not waking anyone. Rhys left the kitchen to look for her. She was sitting comfortably in the still-broken doorway to his room. When she saw him appear from the kitchen she looked meaningfully over her shoulder into his room, then back at him with appeal. She normally slept in Joshua's room, but Johan had banned her from his after a particularly destructive awakening one morning. 

"You feeling lonely, too?" His lips curved into a smile as she pawed the air in answer. "All right, all right... I'm coming." He flipped off the light switch in the kitchen and padded softly over to the waiting Great Dane. "Let's get some sleep." 

* * *

Johan stared at the white ceiling of his room, turned grey in the semi-darkness imparted by his extra-heavy curtains. He was habitually nocturnal and usually slept during the day, so his curtains were built to withstand the assaults of the sun and keep the room dim. He felt the creeping hand of sleep begin to take him. 

"Johan?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Joshua asked tentatively. He'd taken the bed, since his massive frame overwhelmed the roll-out Johan maintained for regular-sized guests. 

"Sure. What's up?" Mentally, Johan gave up on sleeping for the next little while. 

"You think they're going to stop the treatments forever?" Joshua sounded... strange. Johan rolled on his side to try and see him better, but the height difference between the rollout and the bed still prevented him from seeing Josh's face. 

"Pretty sure, yeah," he offered. 

"What if..." The hand he could see clenched in the sheet. "What if someone asked?" 

"Why would anyone ask? If it doesn't stop the kill switch, what's the point..." he trailed off as he realised. There was a long moment of silence. "Why do you ask?" He questioned softly. 

"I have been spending a lot of time with Noah," Joshua said. Johan blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. His fatigue was making it harder than usual to keep up. 

"Noah's a great kid." 

"I want one." The naked longing in Joshua's voice stopped Johan's breath in his chest. "I can never have one, not like this. Not with everyone else like me dead." 

Johan rubbed suddenly aching eyes with one hand. He considered being flippant, but elected to go with truth instead. "No." 

"That is why I ask, Johan. Because I want one." Joshua rolled away from him to face the wall. His breathing roughened. The conversation was over. 

Johan stared at the ceiling and knew sleep would be a long time coming. 

* * *

When they got up, Alec was uncharacteristically already gone. Johan and Andrews headed out to start canvassing whatever contacts could be dug up. Rhys took Teacup out for a run and then went back to bed. Joshua and Max got Noah dressed and fed and headed to Gem's. Then, Max started looking. 

She finally found Alec in the absolute last place she would have looked. In fact, if Joshua hadn't finally taken pity on her and pointed the way, she'd have never thought to search there. 

Feeble candlelight from a couple of camping lanterns danced over the uneven walls. One broad shoulder was propped against the wall. He leaned heavily, facing almost away from her, staring fixedly at nothing. The candles lit the gold highlights of his hair, trickled over the broad lines of his shoulders. He tensed at the faintest scuff of her shoe on rock. 

"I would never have thought to look for you here," she ventured lamely, utterly unsure of his mood. 

Alec glanced at her. The candlelight gilded the colours of his eyes, making them glint gold. They were distant, looking more through her than at her. "I didn't figure anyone would come here looking for me." 

"I can imagine." Max looked around the water control room of the city sewer with a sigh. "No one comes here looking for company." 

Alec sighed and moved away from the wall. He stretched jean-clad legs. "I came here because I wanted to be alone." 

"Bullshit." Max said bluntly. "You don't want to be alone. No one does." 

He tilted his head back as if asking for divine patience. The leather of his jacket creaked. "Fine. I came here to _spend some time alone_." 

"Now, that I believe." 

"Max..." He drew out her name in frustration. 

"You haven't really forgiven me, have you?" She asked it in a rush. His gaze snapped down to hers in shock. 

"What?" 

"For leaving. You haven't really forgiven me yet." 

"Max." Alec scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Whatever else you may believe, believe me... this is not about you." 

"I think it is..." 

"I just lost my friend!" He shouted. "Another person I practically raised is lying in a coma, and I don't have any idea when he's going to wake up! Zane is missing! And Rhys..." He gritted his teeth. "Rhys is on the edge of completely losing it. I can feel it. So give me a break if I tell you this is not about _you_." 

"But it is," she told him doggedly. "Because you don't really want to be alone. But Logan's gone. And Dalton's not here. And Rhys is on the edge. And me?" Tears filled her eyes. "I left you once already. And you haven't forgiven me. Not really. I can feel you pulling away from all of us. I think I'm part of the reason why." 

He glared at her with narrowed eyes. "You want the truth?" 

"Yes." She swallowed hard. 

"No," he said bluntly. "I don't think I have. Not completely." 

She closed her eyes. 

"Everything I feel, everything I _felt_... it's right there, Max. But I can't quite touch it. Not all of it. Because something's holding me back." He stepped close to her, grasped her shoulders gently. "But, I swear. This, my being here, is not about you." His hands tightened. "I just need some time for myself. To mourn my friend. To think." She stared up at him, eyes brimming. "I don't know how to fight this, Max. I wish... I wish that this was something I knew how to fight." 

"Put Rhys on it." Max disengaged gently and rapidly wiped her eyes, striving for normalcy. 

Alec rubbed his chin, thinking hard. "There's no question he's the right person for the job. But he's hurting pretty badly right now. The adjustment is hard." 

"Then this just gives him something else to think about, doesn't it?" Her voice was determined. 

"Yeah." He bit his lip. "If he'll agree." 

"If he doesn't, argue with him til he does." Max took his hand and began to lead him back to the surface. 

"That may be easier said than done..." 

* * *

"You want me to do the assays on Logan, and figure out what happened?" Rhys was incredulous. Alec's return had brought him out of his room, dressed in well-worn snug black jeans and a dark red T-shirt. Johan had returned briefly to get something to eat. He watched the emerging argument with trepidation and a little amusement. 

"And determine the actual cause of the killswitch, yes," Alec replied with a calm he didn't feel. 

"I... I..." Rhys spluttered. 

"You." 

"I can't, Alec. I'm..." Rhys took a deep breath and forced out the words. "I'm not what I was." 

Alec's face hardened. "None of us are." 

"Don't be dense." Rhys retorted angrily. His ire was rising faster he was used to and the struggle to keep his temper was painful to watch. Alec's hold on his own irritation was deteriorating fast. Whenever they fought, he relied on Rhys' fundamentally controlled, even nature to keep everything from going too far. It was dismaying to realise that this time, that was supposed to be his role. 

"I don't need you to armwrestle anyone! I just need you to _think_." A role he seemed to be having difficulty with. 

"I don't know if I can!" Rhys shouted back. 

"Well you can't if you don't try!" 

Rhys gave an inarticulate sound of rage. When he finally gathered himself enough to speak, his voice was low, intent and shaking with restraint. "What if I get it wrong, Alec? My last idea isn't exactly working out wonderfully, and that was with all my faculties intact. What if this," he tapped his head with a stiffened finger, "is just as weakened as this?" He made a fist and waved it under Alec's nose. 

"I don't care." Alec shook his head sharply. "You're our only shot. You're the one who did all the background research with Dalton. The one who ran all the assays. The one who helped construct the treatment in the first place. Weakened or not, you're the only one with a chance of figuring out how this relates to Logan. People are dying here, Rhys. What if..." 

"What if I'm one of them? What if we got it wrong? What if the treatment turned me human... but that isn't enough? What if my clock is still out there ticking? Is that what you're trying to say?" Rhys demanded bitterly. 

"See? Sharp as ever." Alec retorted. 

Johan sucked in a shocked breath behind them. 

Rhys stared at Alec, eyes burning and both hands clenched. "You know what I need," he asked conversationally. "I need a night on the town." 

Alec's mouth compressed. Rhys turned away from the disappointment in his friend's eyes and stalked to the door. He grabbed his black leather jacket from the hook on the wall. Just before he reached it, Alec spoke threateningly. "If you leave us tonight..." 

"Already gone." Rhys slammed the door hard enough that it bounced back open, swinging forlornly on its hinges. 

Alec growled then turned to face Johan without looking at him. "Go with him. Keep him out of trouble." 

"You must be kidding. Rhys is the one who keeps _me_ out of trouble." One look at Alec's set face told Johan he wasn't. "I don't think even divine intervention would keep Rhys from getting messy if he wanted to, let alone me." One last-ditch effort. "I'm supposed to be looking for Zane..." 

"Thank you for your contribution," Alec smiled thinly. "And yet, I don't recall asking. For tonight, this is your priority." 

Johan stared at him, then inclined his head in grim acknowledgement. "Yes, sir. I'll do my best," he said and followed Rhys. 

"Hell." Alec scrubbed both hands through his hair in frustration. "Stubborn, frustrating, infuriating son of a _bitch_." He kicked the side of the couch. 

"I'm sorry," Max ventured. "I didn't think he'd leave." 

"He'll be back." Alec tossed the pillow back on the chair. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

"What if you're wrong?" 

"I'm not." His voice was flat, utterly certain. "Rhys doesn't know how to give up... or leave. He'll be back." He didn't look at her. 

"Unlike me." It was a statement. Alec groaned, rolled his head to look at her. "Unlike me," she prodded. His already frayed hold on his temper broke. 

"Yes, Max, unlike you. He'll be back, unlike you. He wouldn't leave, unlike you. Is that what you want me to say?" His eyes snapped with fury. She jerked as if he'd slapped her. Immediately he felt guilty for saying it, but the little devil of old anger kept him from apologising. 

"What do you want from me? I'm here, I'm in your life, I'm in your _bed_... Why isn't that enough?" The anguish in her voice was palpable. 

"I had all of that before." Alec replied curtly. "And you still left." 

"I can't take that back!" 

"No, you can't." He met her eyes levelly. "The only thing that's going to teach trust again is time. Pushing me like this is certainly not going to do it." 

She glared at him. Tears sparkled in her long lashes. After a long, silent minute she whirled on one heel and headed for the door. It slammed eloquently behind her. 

Alec clenched his fists and hissed out his breath in frustration. "Argh!" He kicked the couch again. This time the frame cracked. He looked at the destruction and heaved a sigh of resignation. "Well, great," he muttered. "Two for two." 

He made his way to the chair and dropped into it to wait for everyone to come home. 

* * *

The jittery feeling was back. 

Rhys strode through the deepening dark, headed for ... he didn't know what. But it was out there, and it would make this maddening itch in his veins go away. He clenched his fists in irritation, wanting to punch something. Anything to relieve some of the tension. 

Rapid trotting footsteps behind him had him whirling. _{Too slow, too damned slow...}_

"Geeze - let me catch up!" Johan gasped as he fell into step beside him. "You walk fast when you're mad." 

"I didn't ask for company." 

"And yet, here I am." Johan replied brightly. Rhys growled but let it go. After a few minutes of silent striding, Johan asked, "so... where are we heading?" 

Rhys pointed straight ahead. "That way." 

"Uh... ok." More silence. "Anything more specific in mind?" 

"There." Rhys stopped dead on the sidewalk, pointing to a seriously dilapidated bar set under street level. One neon sign flickered forlornly in the front window, and a set of beautifully maintained motorcycles lined the road in front. 

"What?" It came out a lot higher-pitched than Johan intended. "What?" He asked again, deeper this time. "That is a biker bar." 

Rhys flexed his hands again, with a beautific grin. "It's perfect," he said, and headed for the door. 

"Oh, no." Johan followed reluctantly. "This place is so not conductive to staying _out_ of trouble." 

"Those are your orders, blond boy, not mine." Rhys flashed him a broad grin and walked inside. 

It was a typical dive. Bulb lights hung at uneven intervals from the ceiling, their feeble glow doing little to lighten the gloom of the place. Pool tables lined the back of the place, the carpet leading to them worn and stained by years of booted feet and spilled drinks. Only the bar looked clean, gleaming with polish under the sole bright light used to set off the set of full liquor bottles behind it. It was a busy night. Virtually all of the tables had at least one patron, and all but one pool table was already taken. As the two men walked in, all conversation near the door stopped as the existing customers looked them over. 

Rhys met the eyes squarely, challenge in every line of his body. The hard-eyed men staring back at him seemed unimpressed, but returned to their conversations, if a little quieter than before. He took one step further into the bar, studied the room. Mostly men, mostly big and ugly. The few women were over-painted and under-dressed. Johan sighed in his ear. 

"Please don't tell me you now find this kind of place appealing." 

"It has scotch and right now, that's all I need." He tapped the bar. "Bottle of Glenmorangie." 

The bartender held out his hand eloquently. Rhys dropped two hundred dollars in it unhesitatingly. The bartender reached under the bar and produced the requested bottle of 18 year old single malt. 

"Not that I'm complaining..." Johan eyed the bottle warily. 

"Yes, I'm sharing." Rhys poured two large tumblers full. He handed one to a wide-eyed Johan. "Slainte." He held out his glass in demand. 

Johan stared at the dim light glittering warmly through the mellow gold of the scotch, then back at the compelling, challenging glint in Rhys' eyes. He sighed, shrugged. "Za vashe zdorovye," he replied with a grin and clinked his glass against Rhys'. Together, they drank. 

Fire exploded in Rhys' throat, burned a trail to his stomach. He gasped, coughed. "Awesome," he choked out. The next long pull went down much more smoothly. Already he could feel the buzz starting at the base of his skull and the wonderful warm feeling spreading down his limbs. He finished his drink, glanced a question at Johan. 

"Absolutely." Johan held out his glass for a refill. His eyes were watering faintly. "Damn, I needed a drink." He waited impatiently for Rhys to pour, took another sip and grimaced. "The stress is killing me." 

Rhys' mouth quirked wryly. "Yeah. That stress is a bitch." He tipped his full glass against his lips, savouring the slightly smokey flavour of the aged scotch. The warmth had spread throughout his body, and the buzz had moved to encompass his head. He shook it slightly, and the world settled into place around him a few seconds later than his vision. "Perfect," he said. It needed more effort than it should have to enunciate clearly. The electricity vibrating under his skin remained. The restlessness drove him away from the bar. He downed the rest of his drink, placed the glass on the bar firmly. 

"Where you going?" Johan hurriedly gulped his own remaining scotch. The face he made at the burn brought a smile to Rhys' face. 

"I need some action," he explained, settling his jacket more comfortably over his broad shoulders. 

"You like this place for getting action?" If anything, the look on Johan's face was even more comical. 

"No." Rhys' grin widened. "But it backs on to the kind of place I do like." He led the way past the pool tables to a back door clearly labelled, 'Alarm Will Sound If Opened.' He opened it. 

The alarm shrilled. 

Rhys shut the door behind them, deadening the sound to a dull scream, and proceeded to another door directly across the back alley. This one read 'No Admittance'. It was vibrating slightly in its frame. 

"You always take this route?" Johan was glancing nervously at the exit they'd just left. There were clear shouts of ire, and they were getting closer. 

"Nope. First time. It just..." he took a deep, adrenalized breath. "Felt right." Johan glared. " Rhys shot him an amused look. "Not as fun when you're the one supposed to be keeping everyone in line?" 

"No," Johan replied shortly. "And I can not believe you're fucking with me like this. Even after all the times I did that to you. Can we please just go in?" He noticed the 'No admittance' sign. "Ah! Not allowed to go in this way. Let's try somewhere else." The shouts had almost reached the doorway. 

"Stopped by a little old lock? No, I want to use this one." Rhys reached into the inner holster sewn in his jacket and pulled his gun. He shot off the lock and nonchalantly opened the door. Loud, harsh music spilled into the alley around them. The people at the dive went silent at the gunshot. "Now, that's what I'm talking about." He strode inside. 

As he entered, the frenetic beat shifted as the song changed. It was replaced by the deep throb of the blues. It moved through him, resonating with that electric buzz and making his whole body react. His eyes closed as he felt his heart move in time. It was calming and exciting at once. The door swung shut. 

Johan gave a soft groan of enjoyment beside him. "Ok. This place, I can get behind. Trouble or not." 

It was definitely trouble. The club was full of young moving bodies, and the energy was incredible. The average age looked to be mid twenties, but there were pockets of both younger and older dancers throughout the floor. To a person, they gyrated to the beat. Rhys scanned the crowd, not even sure entirely what he was looking for... until he found her. 

Dressed in a clingy electric blue blouse and a shimmering skirt of some light material, the woman would have stood out regardless of where she was. Thick black hair was cut shoulder-length, and even as she stood in three-quarter profile the curve of her face was perfect. The man she was with was tall and as dark as she was. He leaned over and whispered in her ear then left, heading towards the bar on the far side of the club. The woman looked around curiously, perhaps feeling the intensity of his gaze. Their eyes locked. 

Immediately Rhys began making his way across the floor to her. The dancers moved smoothly out of his way, as if by accident. Johan followed with less sucess, quickly falling behind. As he approached her, he could see her eyes were a deep blue, surrounded by dark lashes. She looked to be perhaps thirty. She smiled and linked her arms around his neck, easily moving to the beat against his body. She was perhaps five foot six, but her heels made her taller. He leaned down to murmur in her ear, "May I dance with you?" 

She grinned, pulled his head further against her shoulder. "You already are," she laughed in his ear. Her breath made him shiver. He started to move. Johan backed off, seeming to find a dance innocent enough. 

Normally, Rhys supposed it would have been. After all, it wasn't as though he had _no_ self control at all. He was perfectly capable of keeping things at the right level. 

His hands slid down the soft, slightly damp skin of her arms to her hands, where he linked fingers before pulling her closer. The feel of her ripe body pressed along the full length of his made him groan. His blood heated. She pressed her cheek against his before whirling in the circle of his arms so that her back was cuddled against his chest. 

She felt amazing. They always did, but this was even better. It was like heat. Not nearly as strong of course, nothing could be. But stronger than he expected. Still, it wasn't as though anything could happen here on the middle of the dance floor. 

He released her hands. Immediately she reached behind her and placed one on each side of his waist. Teasingly she pulled the hem of his shirt out of his pants and traced her fingernails along the waistband. He stroked down her sides to hold her hips. He pulled her back against his thighs and she arched her back. For a moment Rhys thought he was going to lose control right there, but the music saved him, moving to a faster, driving beat that moved her away. She turned to wrap her arms around his neck. Her face was flushed, eyes sparkling. She pulled his head down. 

"Do you want to get out of here?" She asked loudly enough for him to hear over the music. Rhys caught a glimpse of Johan frantically shaking his head. 

"Absolutely." He smiled down at her with all the charisma he could still claim. 

"No." Johan was at his elbow. Rhys glanced at his adamant face, shrugged. 

"Sorry, beautiful. Have to stay with my watchdog." 

She looked up at him through her lashes. "Ok," she said coyly. "In that case, I need to go to the bathroom." She ran her finger lightly over his lower lip, sending jolts of sensation all the way to the tight coil of tension in his belly. She licked her lips and walked away. 

"Me too." He shook off Johan's hand and followed unhesitatingly. Johan flailed briefly, caught him again. Rhys found himself staring down at Johan's hand on his arm with menace. 

Johan was unmoved by his glare. "Don't leave," he said flatly. 

"I'm just going to the bathroom, buddy. You can wait outside if you want." 

Johan released his arm. 

Rhys followed the woman. Johan followed Rhys. 

The woman was waiting for him outside the door of the men's bathroom. She smiled when Rhys appeared. It widened when Johan appeared from behind his shoulder, still determinedly shadowing his steps. She grabbed Rhys' collar and drew him with her into the bathroom, placing a hand on the centre of Johan's chest and stopping him from following them. "You stay here, Blondie," she said throatily, staring at Rhys with naked hunger. "I don't like an audience." 

Johan blew his breath out in irritation but stayed at the door. "I like going out a lot better when I'm the one on a rampage," he muttered just loud enough for Rhys to overhear. "Next time it's my turn!" He added more loudly. 

The closing door was his answer. 

A quick scan told Rhys the bathroom was empty. Immediately the woman moved into his arms, her hands pulling at his shirt to find the hot skin underneath. Rhys groaned as her nails scored the muscles of his stomach gently. An instant later he had her pressed against the wall, her body touching his from chest to feet. His fingers trailed up her thighs, lifting the skimpy skirt and allowing his leg. She pushed back enthusiastically, urging him on. Clever fingers found the zipper of his jeans. He lifted her easily, shifted his hips, seated himself within her body. The sensation was more than he could take. His control broke. He drove into her frantically. 

It was over too fast. 

The woman slid away from him, into one of the stalls to clean up. Rhys washed mechanically, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. The compulsion to screw (why call it anything pretty... it certainly hadn't been) the woman was gone, and it had taken something else with it. He wasn't sure what. 

Rhys zipped. The sink groaned faintly as he gripped the sides and leaned heavily against it, head hanging. The woman flushed, slipped out of the door. Almost immediately, Johan replaced her. 

"Huh." Johan sniffed, a grimace on his face as he processed the myriad scents. 

Rhys lifted his head and glared tiredly at his reflection in the mirror. "Shut up," he said. 

It wasn't like this was his first hurried encounter in a bar. It wasn't even his tenth. He'd sated exactly this kind of need before in almost exactly this way. Before, it had worked. But there was something ... wrong... this time. He felt different. Not like he'd been changed by the experience or anything. More like... the experience had changed. 

Another impact from the procedure? 

"I didn't say anything." Johan lounged against the wall. 

"I wasn't talking to you." 

Johan blinked. "There is no one else here." 

"Fine. You shut up too." 

It was different because ... it wasn't satisfying. The sex wasn't enough. It was supposed to make him feel better, damn it. Instead, he felt worse than before. He felt... 

"I hope you at least used a condom." 

Empty. He felt empty. 

Maybe when the animal part of his brain turned off, it took the ability to enjoy _simple_ pleasures with it. 

"Rhys. Tell me you at least used protection." 

Along with all his common sense, apparently. "No," he replied shortly, already cursing himself for all kinds of an idiot. 

"You _idiot_!" Johan was incensed. 

"At least we agree on something." So empty. 

"You're human now, Rhys. You can _catch_ stuff." Johan's nose wrinkled in disgust. 

"I know!" And the goddamned, maddening, restless *itch* in his bones was still there! 

The door crashed open, and the dark-haired man they'd seen earlier with the woman strode through, the very picture of fury. His eyes settled on Rhys, ignoring Johan for the moment. The door behind him filled with other men, all looking mad as hell. "You! You came on to my girlfriend while I was at the bar?" Dark Hair looked him up and down. "You think you can just walk up to anyone you want and get some action, asshole?" 

Hmm. Distraction. Rhys straightened to his full height and cocked an eyebrow. "Why not," he said with an eloquent shrug. "It worked, didn't it?" 

Dark Hair's eyes widened in shock at the blunt insult. Rhys heard Johan's hastily supressed snicker behind him. The sound was enough to draw the man's attention. "You thought that was funny?" He reddened with anger. 

"Not funny." Rhys said mockingly. "And not even all that good." 

The man jumped him. 

Immediately, the crowd of men piled through the door and joined the decidedly one-sided fray. Johan waded into the mass of bodies and started throwing them back through the door. He grabbed Rhys by the shoulder of his jacket and pulled him through as well. 

They entered the scene of a large-scale bar brawl in progress. 

"I blame you," Rhys shouted to Johan as he ducked a flying bottle. Just at that moment the irate Dark Hair appeared, punching Rhys hard in the face. Rhys rocked back on his heels, then returned the favour with an uppercut. A moment later the fight rolled over them all, and the confusion became total. 

At least he didn't feel jittery anymore. 

* * *

Max's cell phone shrilled. 

She sighed in irritation but dug into her jacket pocket and removed the compact phone from her pocket. "Go." The winds on the Space Needle were increasing, so she'd retreated inside and taken a position where she could still see the view but not be in danger of getting blown over the edge. 

"Max?" 

"Johan?" She could barely make out the voice over the sounds of loud music and louder shouting. There was a resounding crash that made her wince. 

"Yeah, it's me. I .. uh... I lost Rhys." 

"You _lost_ him?" Max's voice came out in a squeak. "How could you lose him? Alec is gonna take you apart!" 

"I know! Why do you think I called _you_ instead of him?" 

"Good point." She thought furiously. "Do you have any idea where he'd go?" 

"If I did, would I call you?" 

"Being quite a smartass for someone asking for help, aren't you?" Max frowned. "What happened, anyway?" 

"Uh." She could practically hear him deciding how much to tell her. "We ran into a little trouble. A small bar fight. No big." 

Like she believed that. She decided to let it go. Where would Rhys go? If she were him, and so much had changed so fast... She had an idea. "I have an idea," she said. 

"Really?" Johan sounded hopeful. 

"Really. I'll call you if I'm right." 

Max turned off the phone, dusted herself off, and headed for the bar that used to be Crash. 

* * *

"Rhys." Max leaned against the bar beside the stool he was occupying. He blinked. 

"Daaamn. How'd you do that? You just..." Rhys windmilled his hands wildly, "appeared." 

"It's the cat burglar in me. Makes me extra sneaky." Max rolled her eyes at the number of shot glasses scattered across the polished top of the bar. She gave the bartender a half-hearted glare. The woman held her hands apart helplessly. Sure, sure. Rhys was hard to say no to. 

"You know, I've always liked you." His glassy eyes had fastened on her face with a disquieting intensity. 

"You're not going to make a pass at me again, are you?" She didn't understand the shadow that fell across his expression. 

"No." He frowned, looked away. "No. No passes." He tapped the bar imperiously and immediately the bartender poured him another scotch. He knocked it back and shook his head at the kick. He gestured for another. 

"I think you've had enough." Her eyes scanned him head to toe, cataloguing injuries. Black eye, bruised cheekbone, scrape over his eye. Torn shirt under the black leather jacket. Torn jeans. "You look like you've been through a war." 

"Three, actually." Rhys slammed the drink, asked for more. 

"What?" Max was distracted by the darkening bruises around his neck. "Jesus, Rhys. You're a mess." 

"Three wars. I have been through three wars." Rhys enunciated extra-carefully. 

"I meant tonight." 

"Ah. No, no... tonight... tonight was a skirmish. A mere kerfuffle." Rhys laughed at his joke, slapping a hand over his eyes as he swayed. The motion was too much and he quickly put his hand back on the bar to steady himself. 

"Battle or war, it looks like you lost." She aimed for flippant, stalling for time. Where the hell was Johan, anyway? 

"Lost? Oh, yes. Yes indeed. I lost." Rhys stared remotely at the bottles behind the bar. Max watched with relief as Johan hurried in. 

"Time to go home, Rhys." Johan was at his side, pulling him gently away from the bar. 

"Leggo." Rhys pulled away, staggered, almost fell. "I'm not ready to go back." 

"It's time to go." Max grasped his other arm and tugged. 

Rage flashed through Rhys' eyes and he shoved them both, hard. "I said, no!" 

Still feeling the effects of his own drinks and the earlier fight, Johan tripped over his feet and went down. Max barely swayed. Her lips tightened. "Ok, big guy," she said grimly. "Night night." She punched him. Rhys went down. 

"We could have done it another way, you know," Johan muttered plaintively as he worked to hoist his friend's substantial dead weight into a semi-standing position. 

"Don't worry about it," Max said dismissively. "He'll just figure the lip came with the earlier fight. He won't even remember that I hit him." 

"Don't believe it. Rhys remembers everything. It's freaky." Johan suceeded in pulling the bigger man to his feet, where he hung loosely with his arm around Johan's neck. "Are you going to help me here or not?" 

"Not." Max strode towards the door. "You're the one who lost him in the first place." 

Rhys woke up in the parking lot as they neared the Ninja. Max had taken pity on Johan and was propping up his right side as Johan took the bulk of his weight on the left. "Hey! You hit me." 

"Do I have to do it again?" 

"No." Rhys smiled. It pulled painfully at the swollen cut on his lip and he winced. "Though you could kiss it better." 

"You really do have a death wish, don't you?" She glared at him. 

His smile faded. "No, I don't. But I was wondering for a while." He sounded suspiciously sober. 

"Were you faking back there?" She dropped his arm. Both Rhys and Johan staggered. 

Rhys looked green. "No." He swallowed hard and leaned against the closest car. "The genetic manipulation for processing alcohol was in the human code." He grinned crookedly. "We got to keep some of that in place. Makes me able to resist." The smile ran away. "A little." 

Max arched an eyebrow at him as she straddled the motorcycle. "Sounds to me like you know the details pretty well." 

"Yeah. Dalton and I worked out most of the specifics before hand." 

"So... sounds like your memory is in pretty good shape." She rocked the bike upright, flipped up the kickstand. 

"Sure. I was lucky there.. haven't found anything missing so far." 

"So, you're the right person to continue the research til Dalton wakes up, then." She beamed at him. 

Rhys had just pushed himself upright. Her words froze him, and he slowly returned to leaning on the car. He closed his eyes, gasped for breath. "I am such an idiot." 

"That's nothing new." Johan clapped him on the shoulder, dragged him back to his feet. "You've always been an idiot." 

"You're so reassuring." Rhys took a deep breath. "It's time to go home, guys. There's work to do." 

"Just like that?" Max was dumbfounded. "After the fight you guys had? Just 'time to go home'?" 

Rhys blinked at her in confusion. "Wasn't that the idea? Me, going home?" 

"You have no fear, do you?" 

"Of what?" 

"That he won't be there, or that he won't forgive you. That he won't want you back. You have no doubts about him at all." 

The dark eyes that fastened on her were direct, and dead sober. "None," he said. 

She looked away, gestured for Johan to help her heave him onto the bike behind her. 

"Do you?" His breath fanned the hair behind her ear and made her shiver. "Truth between us. Do you?" 

"No," she admitted under her breath. The deep rumble of Rhys' laughter vibrated through her body as he wrapped his arms around her for stability. She kicked the starter and the Ninja roared to glorious life. "No, I don't." 

* * *

The door flew open, and Johan burst through, supporting a swaying Rhys. Max followed. 

"We're back," Johan announced breathlessly. "Geeze, being made human certainly didn't make him any _lighter_." 

"No," said Max firmly, stepping in front of him and meeting Alec's eyes in an open challenge. " _We're_ back." 

Alec's lips slowly curved into the real smile he'd felt in days. He started to speak, then licked his lips and tried again. "In that case," he said gently, taking her hand and drawing her into his arms. "Welcome home." 

Zane was dreaming of drowning. 

The cold water pulsed against him from all sides. It filled his clothes, his nostrils, his mouth. It fought to drag him down into the depths. 

It _hurt_. 

The water was so cold... He shivered violently. There was no light, no sound other than his heart pounding in his ears. He needed a breath desperately, felt the ache deep in his chest as the need intensified with each moment. Years of discipline and training came to his aid. He stayed calm, heartbeat thundering but even. 

The pain tapped against the back of his mind. His dream gave the pain a high, taunting voice. 

_{X5-205, are you there?}_

If it hadn't hurt so much he'd have laughed. Pathetic attempt to dig at old wounds. He'd been beyond that particular issue for years. Instead, he turned away from the mental voice as he'd done so long ago in Manticore's sensory deprivation chamber. He focussed. 

The pain hit him harder, more insistantly. _{205, 205, I know you're there...}_

The need to breathe was becoming a tearing misery in his chest, matching the one in his head. _{I'm coming to get you...}_

Zane willed himself calm despite the battle raging within his body. _{Come and get me then,}_ he thought defiantly at the voice in his head. It laughed, a high jibber that spoke of hysteria and darker things. The worst part of hearing it was knowing it was coming in the end from him. 

The pain burst over him in a flood of hellfire. It tore through all his careful defenses, shrugged aside his will like it was nothing. Zane screamed, every sinew snapping taut in an instant of purest agony. 

There was a burst of light at the back of his mind, like a mine exploding behind his eyes. It wiped away the hurt, silenced the voice. 

Zane had an instant to wonder if he'd gone insane before the darkness covered him in silence blessedly empty of pain. 

* * *

"I think I know why Logan was affected." 

Alec looked up at Rhys with tired eyes. 'Was affected'. It seemed like such a gentle euphamism for death. Like getting screwed over by someone's sick idea of an off button was simply a mild side-effect. 

He needed sleep. That thought was pretty bitter, even for him. 

Rhys was, if anything, more exhausted than he. He hadn't slept in two days, concentrating solely on running and re-running assays and racing through analysis after analysis on the results. He had been absolutely focussed since his return with Max, barely stopping to eat, sleeping only when his body refused to take him any further. It was as though he were driven by personal demons he couldn't escape except through shutting out everything other than work. He looked terrible; his eyes were sunken and his cheeks hollow with stress. Maybe more importantly, he was still struggling with control. Struggling with other, darker things he refused to share. Alec was worried about him. 

It was starting to feel like the usual state of affairs. 

"Did you hear me?" 

Alec shook his head to clear the fog surrounding his thoughts. "Sorry. Yeah. What?" 

"I think I know what happened with Logan." Rhys dropped onto the sofa with a grimace of pain. It wasn't all physical. Alec could see new lines around his eyes, placed there by stress, by dark knowledge of the cost of failure. "It was my fault." 

"What?" Alec blinked, truly confused. "You were nowhere near him." 

"I was in him." 

For a startled instant Alec thought Rhys was confessing something he simply didn't want to know. Then, the meaning registered and he straightened. 

"In him... the transfusions?" He blinked rapidly, processing the implications. 

"The transfusions." Rhys scrubbed his hands over his two-day beard, eyes haunted. "We made him better... and ultimately killed him." 

"But, _how_?" 

"The contents of the stem cells that were absorbed during the transfusion process were human, Alec. The killswitch is in that part of the code. It meant that over time, though the cells were absorbed and used by Logan's system, he was in effect generating a stockpile of our DNA." He swallowed hard. "My DNA." 

"Sweet Jesus." 

"So, now we know how close it was for me... If I hadn't had the procedure, I would have died. Exactly when Logan did." 

Alec buried his head in his hands. Dalton had been right. Logan had just _stopped_. It _was_ in the human code. 

_It wasn't over._

He lifted his head, not bothering to hide the despair he knew had to be written all over his face. "What are we going to do," he whispered. 

Rhys stood. "I'm going to get back to work." 

"Rhys." Alec closed his eyes. "What if..." 

A hand was placed gently on his head. "If that were the case, I'd be gone already," Rhys said softly. "But I'm still here." He gave a choked laugh. 

Alec reached up and grabbed Rhys' wrist. "I'm glad," he said intently. Rhys smiled at him wryly. 

"Good thing one of us is." He patted Alec's hand. "Back to work," he reminded. 

"Good idea." Alec stood. "I'll help." 

Rhys cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" He shrugged. "Ok. I'm going to clean up first though." Face dark, he headed for his room. Alec sighed and entered the office to start working. 

From the kitchen, Max watched them go. 

* * *

She waited until she heard the sound of Rhys' ensuite shower turn off before entering his room to wait for him. It didn't take long. He strode into it less than two minutes later, stopping short upon seeing her perched on the edge of his bed. Something flickered through his eyes too quickly for her to read before they became shuttered. 

Somehow, she'd expected him to dress in the bathroom. He hadn't. 

Instead, every every bronzed inch of his six foot plus frame was on display. Well, she mentally amended, almost. He wore a thick white towel low around his waist. Muscles moved smoothly under dark skin as he slicked his shower-wet hair back from his face, making the bones stand out even more starkly. She caught her breath, reluctantly impressed. Rhys was beautiful. 

His eyes opened, fastening on hers before she had a chance to look away. They darkened. He lowered his hands, turned his back on her. 

"You're playing with fire, Max." He pulled out the top drawer of his bureau, rummaged through it. 

"I don't know what you mean." She licked dry lips. 

He looked up, eyes meeting hers in the mirror over his dresser. "Liar." 

She immediately looked away, twisting her hands in her lap. "Alec is worried about you. So am I." 

"It's becoming a habit." Face tight, Rhys pulled out a black silk dress shirt, shrugging it on. He reached back into the drawer, pulled out black boxer briefs. 

Max refused to watch, staring at a point on the wall. "You look like shit, Rhys." 

"You didn't think so a minute ago." He stared at her in open challenge, hands moving to the front of his towel. Resolutely, she turned further away, closed her eyes to keep herself honest. 

"Stick to the topic, Rhys." 

She could feel his warm presence moving around behind her back, dressing. Her eyes jerked open as she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. "I thought I was," he murmured. The small mirror beside the doorway reflected the amused expression on his face as he leaned over her. He'd donned black jeans over the underwear, leaving the dress shirt hanging loose. His feet were bare. 

"Please." She rolled her eyes in humour at the joke, met his gaze in the mirror. The heat in his eyes belied the smile on his face. Her breath left her and took her grin with it. "Please," the second time it had an entirely different sound. "Don't do this." 

Immediately he stepped away, running stiffened fingers through his hair, leaving tracks in the wetness. Buttons glinted as he rapidly began fastening the shirt. "I apologize." His mouth compressed. "I know better. I do." His eyes lifted to his reflection in the mirror, glaring at it furiously. His fist clenched, lashed out in a sudden rage. The mirror burst, blood trickling from his knuckles. Max jumped, leaped to her feet, grabbed his wrist before he could punch it again. 

Things were much, much worse than she'd thought. He had to be on the verge of breaking altogether. 

"Jesus, Rhys. Stop!" She cradled his damaged hand in both of hers, reaching for the towel he'd set on top of the dresser. She wrapped the wound, applying pressure. When she looked up, his head was bowed, turned away from her. The muscles stood out across his shoulders with his tension. Absently she noted the fit of jeans over flesh. He'd lost weight. "What is wrong with you?" 

His head swung around, eyes fierce in their frustration. "I hate this," he said starkly, honesty bleak in his face. But at least it was real, and it was Rhys again behind his eyes. "I _hate_ this." 

Max remained silent, went still under the force of his emotion. Rhys was a supremely confident, controlled person. The loss of that control was painful to watch. 

"I hate this." Tears stood out in his eyes, and he pulled away from her violently. "I can't stand feeling like this. I can't." He sat on his bed, curled over his hand. His other hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"You have to." Max told him harshly. "We need you. The real you, not..." Her hand waved over him in explanation, "this." 

"Ha!" He barked out a laugh. "What you see is what you get." 

"Rhys," she heard the pleading note in her voice and hated it. "Tell me what's wrong. Please." 

He took a deep shuddering breath, gaze fixed on hers intently. 

"Six," he said briefly. 

Max frowned in confusion. 

"That's how many we've lost since stopping the procedure. Six." His mouth twisted. "Six we might have saved if..." 

"If you'd been faster?" Max was incredulous. "If you'd been better? God, Rhys! You've been killing yourself trying to find the solution. What more is there?" 

"I was never enough." He shook his head. "Did Alec tell you about Uzbekistan?" 

Max nodded slowly, still trying to process his shifting mood. 

"I was captured." A dark flush climbed his face. Embarrassment, she realised. "494 had escaped the cage. They used me..." His voice broke off, continued in a growl. "They used me to bring him back in. Then they used me to punish him." He bit his lip, flesh turning white under the pressure. "I wasn't a field operative. Couldn't be, cause I was afraid of small spaces. And because of that... because I wasn't enough, they caught him. They caught us both." 

"You almost died. You fought free." Her voice was soft. Much was becoming painfully clear. 

"No," he shook his head definitively. "I would have died there. No. 511 brought us out. Him and 494." His chin jutted out stubbornly. "I swore, lying in that tank, listening to them fight for me. I swore I would never be that person again." 

"Wounded?" Max blinked. "Rhys, everyone gets wound.." 

"No." It came out as a snarl, quickly subdued. "Not wounded, no." His lips peeled back, baring teeth. "Insufficient." 

"And now..." 

"I am not," it was said with a complete lack of emotion that reminded her of Alec, "what I was." 

"Oh, Rhys." She dropped to one knee beside him, cradled his cheek in her hands. "You idiot." 

He laughed painfully, closing his eyes against the intensity of her gaze. 

"You idiot." Max shook his head between her hands. "You aren't what you were, of course not. You idiot." She felt tears in her own eyes. "You're _more_." 

Now the confusion was all his. 

"More?" His brows drew together. "I've lost strength, speed, control..." 

"And you've gained passion, depth, humanity, charisma... pain." She smiled. "Command. You've lost control and gained... command." Her mouth firmed. "You're more. Definitely, more." 

He looked at her through half-lidded eyes, shuttering away his thoughts and visibly rebuilding his careful walls into place. "You should go," he said gently. "I need to get back to work. Alec will be waiting for me." 

Max rose, releasing him. "Oh... and if you try to seduce me again, I'll kick your ass." 

Rhys' eyes widened in shock. "I didn't try to seduce you." Suddenly he broke into a wicked, wicked smile. With his still damp hair and faint stubble he looked like a pirate. Or a fallen angel. "That?" He waved his hand at the other side of the room, where he'd leaned over her. "That wasn't trying. That wasn't anywhere near trying." 

Max stared at his guileless face, trying to decide if he was joking or not. Ultimately, she decided, not. 

Damn... 

Definitely, **more**. 

"Rhys," she said, backing towards the door as he reached to pull on a sock. 

"Yeah?" He paused, foot in the air, to look at her. 

"Don't try." 

His face went dead serious, foot slowly returning to the floor. His eyes met hers with absolute honesty. "Max," he said, "I never would. Not really." 

"Good." She left. 

From his vantage point beside the hole in the wall to Rhys' room, Alec watched her go. He shifted his weight in indecision, then straightened his shoulders and walked into Rhys' room. 

Rhys was putting on his shoes, a hastily tied cloth bandage around the knuckles of his right hand. He looked up, one dark lock of hair falling over his forehead. He swiped it back impatiently. Alec searched his face closely, looking for... he wasn't even sure. For the first time, he looked at Rhys not as a partner, not as a friend, not even a subordinate, but as a potential leader. He asked himself, _{Would I follow this man?}_. 

The answer was an unequivocal, _{Yes.}_

Max had hit the centre of the target. In breaking his restraint, he had gained command. Rhys was definitely more. 

"What?" Rhys wiped at his face, checked his hand. "Is something wrong?" 

Alec realised he'd been staring. "I thought I told you to stay away from Max until you had your control back," he said. Rhys simply raised an eloquent eyebrow and switched to putting on his other shoe. 

"Perhaps you should be telling Max to stay away from me," he replied wryly. 

Alec's lips quirked into a grin. "Nah," he said, shoving himself upright from where he'd been leaning against the doorframe. "I trust you." 

Rhys rose to his feet and stepped past Alec through the door, patting him on the shoulder as he went. "I'll try to keep that in mind." He clapped his hands together and turned his attention to the communications room that was doubling as their research lab. "Come on, Alec. There's work to do." 

* * *

Another day gone, another day... dead. 

Alec gritted his teeth, eyes and head aching with running endless screens of DNA maps and assay information they had been combing through, searching for something new. Anything new. Hell - anything AT ALL. He started muttering to himself. "Stupid, stupid little strand... where are you hiding? How'd you get so smart?" 

"Shut up, man. You're driving me nuts." 

"How do you do it? How do you turn us off with such precision? How do you..." His eyes fell on the clock on the wall. "How do you tell?" 

"Alec, I swear, I'm gonna start throwing things if you don't shut up." 

"How does it tell?" He asked intently, standing and pacing jerkily from one end of the room to the other. 

"How does it tell?" Rhys looked up, frowning. 

"Yeah. How the fuck does it tell what time it is? Does it have a little fucking designer watch on it's little wrist? How does it know?" Alec gestured, his frustration reaching a new peak. 

It was contagious. Rhys stood abruptly, his own irritation with their lack of progress coming to a head. He punched the wall, denting it and leaving a blood smear on the paint. "Shit!" He shook his hand, flexed it to work out the pain. Suddenly his eyes brightened. "Maybe it doesn't know! No... No... maybe it _didn't_ know!" He raced for his computer, logged into Logan's server network. 

"You thought of something." 

Rhys gave him an eloquent look. "Evidently." 

Alec muttered. "Shut up and tell me already." 

"Conflicting orders again," Rhys tsked sadly. "You're losing it." 

Hiding a smile at seeing Rhys in something approaching good humour, Alec dropped to one knee beside the desk. "Just tell me. Please." Adding the magic word couldn't hurt, right? 

Rhys just grinned at him, typing rapidly without looking at the screen. "C'mon, Alec... work it out. Time, buddy. _Time._ " 

Alec blanked his mind. For Rhys to be so coy meant the answer was right in front of him. Associations... Time. Watches. No... Time. Age. Aging. "Progeria!" He blurted. 

"It's just a guess," Rhys agreed, excitement practically oozing off of him, "but it makes a Manticorian kind of fucked-up sense, doesn't it?" 

Alec stared at nothingness, shocked to his core. Could it really be so simple? Could the progeria attacks have been caused by the gene _not_ being able to 'tell time'? 

Rhys gave an inarticulate shout, clapping his hands together and drumming his feet on the floor. Alec was immediately behind his shoulder, staring at the screen. "Is that it?" He demanded breathlessly. 

"It's it!" Max charged into the room and froze at the undisguised joy in Rhys' voice. "And not only is it IT, Alec. This includes how it was broken..." He pointed to the screen with one shaking finger and looked up at his friend exultantly. "And _that_ is how they fixed it!" 

* * *

Johan opened the door on a scene of unexpected serenity. Andrews followed closely, bumping into his back when he stopped abruptly. 

Alec was stretched out on the couch, feet up on the arm, looking insufferably content. Max was sprawled across the overstuffed chair, beer in hand, and Joshua was relaxed in the other chair, root beer at the ready. Rhys was slouched against the door to the kitchen, TeaCup leaning against his thigh. 

Johan frowned at him. "Are you bigger?" he asked, then shook his head. "Nevermind." Alec curled to sit on the couch, making space. "You all look comfortable." He sounded grouchy. 

Andrews pushed past him, fell into the space to Alec's right. "You do look comfortable." He heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Good god, it feels good to sit down." He extended his legs to their full length. 

Alec gave him a fond smile. 

Johan hung up his jacket, muttering under his breath. When he turned back to the room, everyone was watching him. Andrews wore a strange half-grin as he waited. "We..." he paused for effect. "Have good news, and better news." 

Rhys started to grin. "Hit us with the good news, first." 

"We found Johannsen, and where they are holding Zane." Johan bared his teeth fiercely. "Already set up the necessary intel and gear - we can go in any time." Rhys straightened as if to go immediately. Max stood. Andrews just slumped further into his seat. 

"Though we could wait for just a couple of minutes..." he interjected, wheedling. 

"And the better?" Alec, as usual, stayed on point. 

Johan's grin turned positively glorious, lighting his whole face. "Dalton's awake." 

* * *

"I'm going." 

Alec pulled his sweater over his head, tugging it into place and tucking it into his charcoal grey burglar pants. They were his second-best outfit, but he'd never gotten around to actually replacing the set destroyed in the bra heist. "I think we have enough with Johan, Max, the captain and I. I don't want to go crazy here." 

"What are you trying to say?" Rhys' voice was remarkably without heat. He rapidly yanked his own turtleneck over his head, leaving the bottom loose over his black cargos. He followed Alec into the living room, buttoning his pants. 

"I'm saying... I need someone here." Alec ducked a little, spreading his hands. 

"I'll stay behind, get everything ready here. Rhys should go." Johan spoke up from the couch, shrugging at Alec's surprised look. "If we have to rely on you to be the sole voice of reason we're screwed." 

"I don't know I qualify as a voice of reason any more." Rhys donned his body armour, snugging the Velcro into place with practiced care. He dropped two extra magazines into the left thigh pocket of his cargos. 

"I meant me," Johan rolled his eyes. "We need someone with sense here, after all. Dalton's not in shape to do it yet. That leaves me." 

Alec pursed his lips and shrugged. "We need you with us. You're our medic." He slung a canvas tote over his shoulder. Its black strap immediately became damned near invisible against his equally black sweater. "And you're a damned good operator. Rhys stays." He tossed Logan's kevlar to Andrews. 

"No." Joshua intervened. "Rhys goes. Johan goes. I stay." He laughed a little. "I am more 'reasonable' anyway. Need you to bring Zane home for Noah." He tossed Johan's vest at him. Johan took the armour and put it on. Alec sighed and decided to give in to the inevitable as graciously as possible. 

Max trotted up, clad in her usual snug catsuit. She wore no armour and carried no weapons. "Ready," she said. Alec threw her their smallest vest in answer. "What?" She looked at in confusion. 

"You don't need a gun." Alec told her flatly. "You do need a vest." 

Max glanced at the absolute ice in his eyes and put on the vest. Rhys grinned at her cheekily. She stuck her tongue out at him. The grin widened, and he waggled a finger at her warningly, eyes glinting. Hurriedly she looked away. Alec simply shook his head, double checked everyone's gear. 

"Let's go." 

* * *

"Hey," Rhys muttered softly in Alec's direction, knowing he'd hear. "This supposed to be hot, or cold?" 

Alec glanced at the dark figure to his right. "Cold. Why?" Rhys squinted at him. Alec frowned, then made the hand signal for cold, followed by an interrogative. 

"Cause that guy over there made us about two minutes ago." Rhys gestured minutely at the top of the building. Alec followed the motion to the motionless, barely visible figure tucked into the cornice and 'dialled' in his vision. The figure was male, clad head to toe in non-reflective black mesh, and was unmistakably looking in their direction. Only two of them were still outside his field of view. Max, and... 

"Johan." 

Johan peeled off of the scattered group, immediately grasping the issue. He scaled the side of the building in a set of motions so smoothly executed they looked unreal. The shadowy watcher didn't even hear him coming. He dropped soundlessly. 

Johan bent over the figure, checking him closely. He stood, held up one hand. A throat mike dangled from his fingers. 

"Shit." Alec bent his head, thought furiously. Rhys shrugged and stood. "What are you doing?" Alec hissed at him. 

"They already know we're here," Rhys replied calmly in a normal volume. "Might as well go up and knock." He suited action to words. Johan swarmed back down the building. Andrews hurriedly rose and was at Rhys' back when the door opened. 

"I thought you said he was getting better!" Johan muttered at Alec on his way into position. 

"That isn't 'lack of control'. That's 'taking action'," Max retorted at his back before striding up to stand with the others at the door. Alec shook his head with a reluctant grin and followed. Rhys stepped aside. 

Johanssen stood framed in the door. Armed soldiers flanked him on both sides, muzzles unwaveringly covering the group on the stairs. He smiled widely. "Welcome!" He said. "Come to retrieve your wayward friend?" The grin took on a cruel slant. "It's perfect timing. We're done with him now." 

* * *

Zane hung unprotesting between the two enormous men, at best barely conscious. His blue jeans were grey with dirt and dust and uglier things, and he'd been stripped of his shirt. Dark bruises mottled his body. Until Alec focussed on his chest, he wasn't sure that his friend was even alive. The uneven rise and fall proved that he was. 

"What the hell have you done to him?" Max's voice was ugly with rage. Only Rhys' grip on her arm held her back from lunging at Johannsen. Alec could see her flesh bulge around his fingers and knew it wasn't Max Rhys was holding back. 

"Nothing fatal." Johannsen laughed. "At least, nothing _immediately_ fatal." 

Zane's head wavered on his neck, and he slowly raised his face. His eyelids fluttered as he struggled to focus on the group in front of him. He shifted, dragging his legs back to gather himself on unsteady bare feet. He jerked his arm away from the man holding him on the right and almost fell on his face. He muttered something unintelligable, pulled away from the other man. His braced legs trembled. Defiance flickered in his eyes. 

Andrews' face was set in stony lines that Alec had never seen before. He raked Zane's pale, blood streaked face with narrowed eyes before turning a look of pure loathing on Johannsen. "You bloody bastard." 

"You're not the first to say so." Johannsen grinned at Max. "You look real good, 452." 

"Hand him over, and no one needs to get hurt." Alec gritted his teeth on the words. 

"No one but Mr Kimakis." Johannsen pretended to think about it. "Though he's hurt already." 

"Alec," Andrews hissed under his breath, and the reason for his reaction became clear. "Zane's been implanted." Alec hadn't realised he could grow even tenser, but he did. 

Strangely, Max was the one to stay calm. "Don't worry, Zane," she called to her brother. "We'll take it out and it'll all be good. After all, I survived one, and kicked their asses while I was at it." 

"I wouldn't recommend that." Johannsen stepped over to Zane and patted him on the shoulder. "You see, we made good use of your research, as promised." He raised his eyebrows smugly. "We also made him human." 

Rhys snarled. It was an inhuman sound, one Alec hadn't known him capable of making. In two long strides he was beside Johannsen, one arm wrapped snugly around the man's neck, the opposite hand braced against the side of his head. The look he turned on Johannsen's two men had them blanching. "Back up." 

They backed up. 

"You made him human, did you?" Rhys whispered into Johannsen's ear, menace deforming his deep voice into something altogether frightening. "Was that a good joke for you, Johannsen? Did that make you feel powerful?" He shook the smaller man slightly, the contained violence vibrating around him like an invisible energy field. 

Alec shifted as if to intervene. Rhys' eyes snapped to him, the look in them not entirely sane. 

"Back up, Alec." Alec backed up. Rhys returned his attention to the man frozen in his grasp. "Was it funny? Cause I have to say, you sure looked amused." Johannsen tried to shake his head, but the grip on his head held him immobile. 

"Not funny," he gasped. 

Rhys' eyes narrowed. His struggle for control was so intense it was painful to watch. Finally, with a gasp of rage he released him, sending the other man stumbling a step away. 

"Not funny," Johannsen repeated, immediately all smug arrogance. He sneered, ignoring the angry menace only a foot away. "It was fucking _hilarious_." 

Rhys took back that space in one liquid movement, his hands a blur of motion. Johannsen's neck snapped with a sound like crunching a hard shell gum. "Laugh it up now, asshole," he snarled down at the corpse. 

Zane started to laugh. He dropped to one knee, curled over his abdomen like he couldn't catch his breath. The others stood frozen with shock. 

"Jesus," Max breathed. "And you guys say _I_ have impulse control issues." She turned to Alec. "Well, you said you wanted something you knew how to fight." 

"We have to get out of here." Johan said flatly. 

The noise broke the stunned immobility of the two guards flanking Zane, and as one they turned to run. Zane's eyes flared, and he struck out with a speed Alec would not have believed could have come from his battered frame, sweeping the first guard's leg and bringing a vicious elbow against the hamstring of the other. All three dropped into a heap on the floor. 

Rhys was on the first guard a blink later, the man's head held firmly between his hands. His fingers tensed. "No! Don't kill him!" Alec shouted. The hands trembled for a moment, then Rhys reluctantly released the man, alive. He placed one boot deliberately against the guard's throat instead, standing over him and leaning just enough that the guard would know that speed and lack of pain would not be enough to save him should Rhys decide to bear down. 

The second guard scrambled again for the door. Zane grabbed for him and missed. Alec was suddenly just _there_ , holding him securely. "I said not dead," he hissed in the man's ear. "I didn't say you could go." He hauled the guard to his feet. 

"Alec," Johan had reached the inner door in one long step and stood by it, head cocked as he listened intently. He reached out one hand and deliberately threw the lock on the door. "We need to go _now_." A 'boom' resonated through the room as if to punctuate his point. A commotion from the door they'd entered indicated a lack of egress there. As one, the team turned to gaze at the sole remaining door. 

"I think - I'll pick this one." Alec said dryly. 

"Good choice," Andrews replied in the same tone. "Glad to see you're still thinking tactically." 

Alec blew his breath out. "What's behind this door?" He asked his captive, yanking on the man's arm. He just rolled his eyes and remained stubbornly silent. 

"It's a way out. Corridor, several rooms, then exit to the street," Andrews said. "About thirty metres." 

Alec nodded curtly. He reached into his thigh pocket and pulled out a Taser, stepping away and shooting the guard in a single smooth motion. "Damn," he said with a pleased grin. "It feels so good to be on the dealing end of one of these for a change." 

Rhys stepped away from his prisoner. Immediately Alec shot him, too. The noises at the doors redoubled. 

Alec leaned down and heaved Zane to his feet. The bigger man wavered unsteadily but stubbornly locked his knees and held his own weight. "I'll be ok," he said fiercely when Alec would have slung his arm over his shoulder. "Just give me a minute." Alec nodded, looked around the room, took stock. 

"The door will hold for long enough, I think. Johan, Rhys, you two take point. Zane, Andrews and I will follow you. Max..." He stopped, shook his head at himself. It was the right choice. All the resistance was likely to come from the front, and Max was certainly able to take care of herself. "You'll cover the rear." 

The others nodded. Johan and Rhys slipped into the unlit corridor, disappearing into the darkness as if they were made of shadow themselves. Johan paused at the door for the barest instant, clearly debating whether or not to turn on the lights before discarding the idea and leaving them off. Max took a position facing into the room, dropping to one knee and levelling her Taser. Her backup she lay on the floor beside her boot, within easy reach. Alec watched closely, but there was no light in the corridor for even his enhanced vision to see. After a long minute, light flared, and Alec could make out Rhys sliding through the doorway, followed closely by Johan. 

"It's okay!" Johan's voice floated to him. "We're clear." 

Alec nodded curtly at Andrews, who entered the passage without comment. Zane staggered after him, one hand on the older man's shoulder for support and guidance. Alec turned back to Max. 

"Go." Max said shortly, without looking at him. "I've got your back." Alec didn't move. "I'll be right on your heels. Get going." 

"All right." Alec flashed a grin, dropped a kiss onto her surprised lips. "Don't forget to shut the door behind you." As soon as the words left his mouth he frowned. This all felt... 

Max snorted rudely. 

"Come on, Alec." Andrews reached through the opening and took his elbow gently. He tugged. "Let's go." 

Alec followed him into the hallway. They were halfway through when Max came through the door, reaching behind her to close it. 

This all felt... 

Familiar. 

Alec spun on his heel, hand flashing to the pistol at his waist. "Max!" He shouted, "Get down!" 

A rectangle of light opened suddenly a couple of metres behind Max's oncoming form, outlining her in harsh light. Alec blinked against the glare, and saw the silhouette of a gun an instant before the soldier jumped into the tunnel. 

Max dropped to the ground the moment Alec pulled his gun. The soldier's gun spat fire. 

Andrews pushed Alec against the wall as he fired, sending his shot wild. Zane stumbled as Alec knocked into him, forcing him to his knees. Zane toppled the rest of the way, clearly unconscious. 

Alec's next shot didn't miss. 

"Damn." Andrews said, voice thick. "Damn. Here we are again." 

Alec clicked on his flashlight, heart in his throat and already knowing what he'd see. 

Andrews was leaning heavily against the wall of the corridor. Johan and Rhys re-entered the building in a blur of motion. Johan slapped on the lightswitch and stopped dead. Rhys blinked, breath heaving in his chest. As Alec watched, a line of dark red slid slowly down Andrews' forearm. It dripped. 

"You're hit!" Alec jumped forward, catching Andrews as he started to slide down the wall. 

"So I am." Andrews blinked rapidly. "Hurt last time, too." 

Max stood over Alec's shoulder. He glanced up at her, half expecting to see 511's bloodied face looming instead. "Andrews..." She breathed, her voice awful. 

Johan dropped to his knees and ripped open Andrews' shirt, tearing apart the velcro straps that held the vest together. The blood spread, just above the coverage of the kevlar. "Shit," he said succinctly and placed all his weight against the welling wound just below Andrews' collarbone, neatly bisecting the existing scar. "Shit." He closed his eyes. Alec read everything he needed to know in the tightness of Johan's face. 

"No implant this time, 494," Andrews choked out. His hands patted Johan's comfortingly where they pressed heavily against his chest. Alec grabbed one and held it tightly. 

"Captain..." His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. Someone calm. 

Rhys heaved the unconscious Zane onto his shoulder, carried him towards the exit. His semi-automatic machine pistol was in his hand, and his expression boded badly for anyone who might even think about getting in his way. He stopped at the door, placed Zane gently on the ground, and covered the street. 

"Nothing to stop it this time." Andrews' eyelids fluttered closed. Alec's hand tightened, and his oldest friend's eyes re-opened. "494..." He smiled crookedly. " _Alec_." Alec's eyes stung and he blinked rapidly, fighting to hold Andrews' gaze and not lose it behind a blur of tears. "Thank you for my second chance. I'm proud of you." 

"You're the only one I ever wanted to be," Alec replied softly, cupping Andrew's head with his free hand. Andrews drew one long breath, shuddering with pain. 

There were no more. 

When Zane awoke, Alec was waiting. 

He'd traded off with Max, Rhys, Johan, Joshua... They had all taken turns watching Zane through the four long days it had taken him to stabilize. He'd been pulled out of the change too quickly, implanted too abruptly, beaten too severely. Then, when Rhys had lifted him for the final run to safety, they'd found the bullet wound. 

Alec could still hear the anguished moan Max had given upon seeing the pool of thick blood on the floor, could still feel the goosebumps it had raised on his skin. Just as he could still see Johan carrying Andrews' body through the door with a gentleness he'd never seen in the other man before. The click of the door closing behind all of them had punctuated the moment with finality. 

He now hated that noise. 

Without an implant to stop it, the bullet that had taken Andrews' life had passed through him and buried itself in Zane's upper chest. Zane's implant protected him from pain, but could do nothing against the infection that raged through his all-too-human body. It had been a very tense few days, rivalling those of Rhys' procedure. Max's taut face and frightened eyes had made it even worse, knowing that he was unable to offer her peace beyond a strong shoulder and warm arms. She'd seemed grateful for them, though. 

The ordeal had stripped weight from Zane's frame until he was almost as slim as he'd been when they'd met. On his adult body it was too thin; he looked gaunt. His naturally pale skin was flushed with heat, and the black hair was tousled against Rhys' pillow. With the lab compromised, they'd brought Zane back to the apartment. Rhys had offered his bed instantly, and had widened the hole in the wall until it resembled a window into the living room to make it easier to monitor him. 

He was finally sleeping with something approaching normalcy. Alec had recognized the signs of impending consciousness and had sent Max off to bed. He wanted to be the first one Zane spoke to. 

Thick black lashes fanned across the too-sharp jut of his cheekbones. As Alec watched, they fluttered open for the barest instant, revealing glassy brown eyes. 

"Zane." Alec leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees. "Wake up." 

His eyes snapped open. The rest of him remained perfectly still, but an electric shudder raced up his skin. Awareness fairly crackled from him. 

"Stand down. You're safe." 

Zane blinked slowly, calm slowly sliding through his eyes. He relaxed deliberately, letting out a breath Alec hadn't realised he'd been holding. 

"Alec." There was relief and something else Alec couldn't quite decipher in his voice. Regret? "Andrews. Sorry." 

No. Grief. 

Alec nodded acknowledgement. 

"How long?" 

"Four days." 

Zane shook his head impatiently. "No. Since taken." 

Alec finally realised that Zane was having trouble speaking through his dry throat, and handed him some water with a wince of sympathy. "Twelve since you were taken." 

Zane took a long drink, then handed back the cup. When he spoke again, the deep voice was firm and strong. "Noah. How's Noah?" 

"We took him to Gem's after you were stolen. He's back here now. He and Max are taking a nap." Alec grinned faintly. "Teacup is watching them." 

Zane smiled, relaxing back against the pillow. He glanced around, noticing the room. "Rhys?" He asked, alarmed. 

"Fine. He's been racking out in the living room." Alec reassured him. "You ready to talk?" 

Zane arched an eyebrow at him. "About what happened? I don't remember much, man... I was out most of the time." 

"Not about what. About why." 

Zane smiled briefly. "Ah. That." 

Alec's eyes narrowed. "Yes." 

"It was a good plan, you know." Zane closed his eyes, white lines of exhaustion bracketing his mouth. "They focussed on me immediately. It was nothing to stoke that a bit, make sure they didn't start looking at anyone else." He shifted his weight, making the bed creak. "They have plenty of reason to hate you, after all." His face softened. "Or Max." 

"That wasn't it though. You just wanted them away from Noah." Alec watched him intently. 

Zane's lips twitched as he fought a smile. "That too." 

"What else?" 

Zane opened his eyes to look Alec straight in the eye. "We needed a backup plan. For the humans." 

Alec opened his mouth to demand a better explanation, then stopped at the look on Zane's face. He was being honest. Humans, he'd said. Not ordinaries... humans. "The transformed transgenics." 

Zane nodded. 

Alec examined his face closely. "That doesn't fit. Not you. Not for everyone." 

"No, of course not." Zane smiled thinly. "For Max if necessary, for me." He sighed and looked away as if embarrassed. "For Rhys," he mumbled. 

"Really?" All of Alec's disbelief was in his voice. 

"Yes." Zane met his skeptical gaze squarely. "I've known the guy ten years, travelled with him for half a year. I like him." He shrugged. "He has that effect on people." 

Alec shook his head. "A backup plan... in case the procedure didn't work?" 

A grin bloomed over Zane's face. "No. Of course it would work - Rhys was in danger. There was no other option than that it would work. No. A backup plan, in case it _did_ work. If it did work, then once we found the real killswitch, we'd need a way to put them back." The smile twisted into something bittersweet. "A way to put _me_ back, it seems." 

Alec was staring blankly at the window to the living room. "A way to put them back," he breathed in awe. 

"The Reds merged the Manticore genetic technologies with their own, Alec... then they applied the result to adults. Adults. Adults like Rhys, or me, or the others who were changed. We could be put back." 

Alec faced Zane squarely. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Didn't you think it was important?" A thread of growing anger ran through his words. 

"CSIS has been watching Johannsen's people since I handed over the Ashkovich compound. I offered information in exchange for a sub-cu transmitter." Zane scratched behind his ear. "I was expecting them to take me, and you to trace my transmitter and find the lab. Then we'd have all the necessary data to put everyone back." 

Alec's eyes had widened as Zane spoke. "Good plan," he muttered darkly. "Except it didn't work. We went back to where we found you the next day. It was stripped to the walls." 

Zane flushed with embarrassment, the blood standing out clearly beneath the light skin. Alec was surprised; it was the first time he'd ever seen Zane blush. "I miscalculated." 

Alec just stared at him. 

"I was going to tell you as soon as the last Red was finished treatment. I knew they'd be making a play for me as soon as they could. I'd been pressing them enough, after all." He shrugged. "They didn't wait for my timeline. Typically uncooperative of them." 

Alec scrubbed both his hands through his hair. "They hit you before you had a chance to tell us. But if you hadn't been so damned secretive, we could have worked together on it. Could have protected you." He went for the jugular. "Could have let Noah not spend the last two weeks wondering where you were or if you were coming back." 

All of the colour left Zane's face. "And Andrews would be alive," he said flatly, face tight and uncompromisingly self-condemning. It was another expression Alec had never seen. Hell - it wasn't one he'd realised Zane's face capable of! 

"No." Alec bit off the word. "That wasn't your fault. And neither was getting grabbed." He sighed heavily, guilt creeping in at his attack on Zane. "I knew you were provoking them, and I let it happen. We all did. Blame is irrelevant." 

The colour seeped back into Zane's face. "Ok." 

"There are some things you should know." Alec explained Logan's death, Dalton's shooting, and the discovery of the killswitch codes. "We've run assays on you to verify what's been done compared to your original code. We've been through your Manticore records." He watched Zane closely. 

The other man grinned. "I changed all my information in the database years ago," he admitted cheerfully. 

"We had to go back to an original sample," Alec agreed grumpily. "But we managed to get our hands on one. Took forever, but we finally found a hairbrush with viable hair follicles." 

Zane pursed his lips, impressed. 

"You always interest me, Zane. CSIS, White, Ashvokich, the Reds... how many agendas can you serve?" 

A broad grin blossomed across Zane's face. "All of them, of course." 

Alec didn't smile back, just chewed his thumb. "No," he contracdicted softly. "One, I think. Just one." He tilted his head, consideringly. "While Rhys was hunting through the archives, he found some interesting things though. Would you like to hear them?" 

Zane shrugged indifferently, but the expression on his face was suspicious. 

Alec tilted his head back and recited from memory. "You placed in the top three transgenics for intelligence... throughout the entire program. You also placed in the top two for sociopathic indicators. After, that is, you spent a month in the sensory deprivation chamber." 

"It wasn't really a month," Zane told him expressionlessly. "I came out for meals and a wash every couple of days." 

Alec accepted the correction with a nod. "Until that point, you'd been scoring extremely high on empathy. It was compromising your progress." 

Zane just looked at him, waiting. 

"Why did you escape, Zane?" 

Surprise chased across his face. "Pardon?" 

"The whole escape was triggered by Max's seizure. Zack couldn't let her get taken and put down. But you... " Alec shook his head. "Why couldn't you?" 

"I think you already know the answer." Zane turned away to stare at the ceiling. 

"You hacked the computer system early, didn't you? You found the original DNA maps. And you found that you and Max had more in common than anyone else knew." 

Zane blinked, hard. "We share the same mitochondrial DNA," he said, very softly. 

"I couldn't figure it out. Why would you give up everything for Max? Why would you drop CSIS, drop all the subterfuge, drop your _life_ for a person you'd spent most of your life without? Sure, you love her, but you didn't have to go to such extremes." Alec rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "There's Noah, now. We all know what you'd do for him. But back then... there was no Noah, yet." Alec leaned forward abruptly, drawing Zane's gaze. "There had to be something more." 

"She's my sister. My blood, damn it." Zane told him fiercely. "There was no way I was going to let someone kill my sister. There was _no way_. She needed to be protected." 

"And you did, didn't you. You protected her more than anyone could have expected." Alec told him gently. "I found it, you know." 

Zane was suddenly, absolutely alert. "Found what?" 

"Found the modifications you made to Zack's training videos." Alec smiled, shook his head. "All those sessions, all those times they played them over and over to train Zack, and they were reinforcing _your_ message instead. Protect Max. Save Max. Love Max." 

Zane scrubbed both hands over his face. "I was a kid." 

"More, I think." Alec took pity on him. "I'm not going to tell her about that." 

"She loves you, you know." Zane dropped his hands but didn't look at him. "Don't fuck it up." 

"I won't." 

"You sure did last time." There was a fine anger in Zane's voice. Alec immediately went on the defensive. 

"Hey. She left me, not the other way around." 

"Sure," Zane replied mockingly. "But you let her go." He paused a moment, apparently savouring the surprise Alec couldn't hide. "She was so scared and so embarrassed and all she wanted was for you to call... and you didn't." 

Alec swallowed hard. It was true, he knew it. "I won't fuck it up," he said, and this time it had the sound of a promise. 

"That's good." Now he did look at Alec, and his eyes were hot with menace and... something else. "I am very protective of my sister." He paused. "And my nephew." 

Alec smiled. "So am I." 

"I know. If you weren't you'd be dead already." Zane sighed heavily. "Fuck. I have to get used to 'Uncle Zane'." 

"Nah," Alec said. "I think it's still..." 

"Papa!!" Noah shouted from the doorway before launching his small body full force across the room and into Zane's arms. Zane tucked the little boy against his body and hugged him tightly. His eyes closed and he buried his face against the silky hair, breathing deeply. The struggle on his face was stark, but when he set Noah back to look at him his eyes were dry, if a little shiny. "You left me for almost two whole weeks," the boy chided seriously. 

Zane smiled, his face transformed. "It wasn't on purpose. And I'm sure everyone took good care of you." The Great Dane woofed from the door of the room. "Including Teacup," he added with a nod to the dog. 

"I missed you, Papa." Noah snuggled back against him, burying his face in Zane's neck. "Were you ok?" 

"I was mostly asleep," Zane told him honestly. 

"Did you dream?" Noah asked innocently. 

A bleak shadow slid through Zane's eyes and his arms tightened around Noah. "No," he said. 

* * *

Rhys stepped through the door with a beaming grin and a handful of flowers. 

Dalton took one look and burst out laughing. He curled over his stomach, holding his sides. "Hahaha... Ouch! Hahaha!" 

"Now, that's the reaction I was looking for." Rhys tossed the flowers onto the bed at Dalton's feet, pulling up a chair in the same motion. He sat uncomfortably. "How are you doing?" 

Dalton reached out a tentative finger and prodded the nearest blossom warily. It was silk. He snickered again, moaned at the resulting pain. "Now I know why everyone is always calling you a bastard," he gritted out. 

"Truth." Rhys agreed amiably. "Hey - I wanted to be the first to tell you." A smile gleamed whitely in his dark face, making Dalton even more suspicious. "I found it." He dangled a glittering disc in front of Dalton's disbelieving eyes. 

"It?" Dalton's breath left him in shock. "IT?" 

Rhys nodded, a fatuous smile on his face. "It." He waved his hand back and forth a little. "Well - almost it. I found the cause. It's the same thing that caused progeria in the early and middle x-series." 

"Progeria?" Dalton's eyebrows drew together in confusion. 

"A bit before your time, youngster. In any case, the original killswitch malfunctioned in a significant percentage of the X population. It meant they had to devise a way to fix it." He looked positively smug. 

"And of course they left records." 

"Yes! And I found those. They detailed exactly how the killswitch went wrong and the process to rewrite it. And," Rhys laughed out loud. "Exactly which gene combinations comprise it." 

Dalton grinned in delight. "Really? How close were we?" 

"Light years away. We'd never have found it." Rhys' smile faded. "I wrote a genetic virus to rewrite the areas and administered everyone within reach. We used Joshua's base sequences, since they're the only ones we know for sure are ok." 

"Damn, Rhys. Damn." Dalton did a little victory dance in his bed. 

"You've got yours already. We've had other losses, since not everyone was actually within reach." Rhys' eyes were dark. 

Dalton's face tightened. "If I hadn't been here..." 

Rhys stared at him blankly. "If you..." His face paled and he suddenly looked thunderstruck. "If..." His eyes suddenly focussed intently on the young man he'd helped raise. "You're a bloody idiot, is what you are." 

Dalton frowned. 

"And I'm not entirely talking to you." He shook his head in disgust. You've been shot and unconscious, and damned near died yourself." Rhys stopped at Dalton's wide-eyed look. "So shut up. Anyway, Alec helped." 

Now Dalton looked positively stunned. "With _research_!?!" 

Rhys shrugged. "What can I say? It surprised me too." He stood. "One more piece of news." 

"What's that?" 

"The folks who've changed. The Reds have a way to put them back." 

* * *

It was, as predicted, a hell of a wake. 

Transgenics filled every nook and cranny of what had once been command central, Terminal City. They stopped at the door, got their shot, and walked inside to party like they were still under the shadow of death. Most of the interior walls had been taken out to open up the space so that everyone could fit, and the entire south wall was taken up by a mural of hundreds of faces. The top was bordered by a single, continuous barcode containing all their codes. All of the transgenics who'd fallen from the beginning, to war, to hatred, to the kill switch. They were all there, thanks to Joshua's talent and need to express his grief. 

Music pounded throughout the building, shaking dust from the walls. They'd foregone the bar in favour of large crates and coolers of alcohol and water distributed at various places around the floor. 

Alec watched the celebration with mixed feelings. It was wonderful to see everyone finally out from under the cloud of fear that had haunted them for almost two months, wonderful to see them celebrate. 

But at the same time... 

His eyes settled on two faces that didn't fit the theme. Logan and Andrews stared out at him from Joshua's memorial wall. Logan had be painted as he'd been the last few days before he 'stopped'; he looked strained and tired, but he was smiling. Joshua had selected a different memory of Andrews, choosing instead the moment when Andrews had seen Alec for the first time at the apartment. His eyes were alight, and a wide, pleased grin covered his face. Joshua had captured them perfectly, and had given them places of honour on the wall; the only two humans up there. 

He'd never be able to think of either of them as 'ordinary'. 

His chest tightened and his eyes blurred. 

"Looks like everyone is here," Max collapsed beside him, claiming the top of a crate as her perch. "If it isn't everyone, then we'll be heading for the streets again." 

Alec flashed her a grin. "Haven't seen Johan or Zane yet." He thought a moment. "Or Joshua or Dalton, either." 

"Zane's sitting near the door," Max gestured at the big man relaxing in a canvas sling chair, Noah on his lap. He seemed to be pointing out people on the wall to the little boy, who was practically wriggling with excitement. "Dalton's at the back, being doted on by half the unattached women here." 

Once Max pointed him out, Alec could just identify the top of Dalton's blond head surrounded by a sea of other people. He was sitting on one of the crates as well, since he wasn't really healed enough for real exercise. "Ah," he replied. "That must mean that the other half is all over Rhys." Just then Rhys strode into the room, and was promptly mobbed by beautiful transgenics. He didn't look as though he minded. 

"As for Johan and Joshua, I'm sure they're ok. Johan got his shot early, said he'd promised Josh a trip somewhere. I had the impression it would be a few days." 

Alec nodded absently. "Par for the course for them." 

They wandered back towards the door. Noah raced to Max, tugging on her hand urgently. "Mom!" 

"What is it, sweetheart?" She dropped to one knee beside him. 

"Papa showed me Uncle Adam! He's on the wall!" Noah pointed with excitement. 

"I see him!" Max hugged Noah close against her. 

"He looks happy, Mom." 

Max nodded rapidly, clearly unable to speak. Alec rescued her. "Hey, Noah. I see a piano. Do you know how to play?" The little boy shook his head, hazel eyes wide. "Would you like to?" This time, it was Noah nodding vigorously. Alec swept him up and left Max to regain her composure. 

They had worked through Chopsticks and the main theme of Beethoven's Fifth when Max rejoined them. Over her shoulder, Alec could see Zane watching them, an unreadable expression on his face. "Zane ok?" He asked with a frown. Max glanced back at him. 

"He says he's feeling no pain." 

Alec groaned. 

"I know, I know. For such a smart guy he has a really poor sense of humour." They watched Noah play with rapidly increasing expertise, Alec with a grin of pride. Max shot him a sideways look, shuffling her feet nervously. 

"Alec?" 

"Hmmm?" 

She cleared her throat. "Alec." It came out much more firmly this time. He turned to look at her fully. "Alec." She opened her mouth to continue, stopped. 

"Max." He prodded gently. 

Noah looked back at them. "Is it time?" 

"Alec." Max straightened her shoulders as if preparing for battle. Alec's stomach dropped. Anything that took this much working up couldn't be good. "Remember, when I said, I was here, and I was in your life, and I didn't know what else I could do?" 

Alec nodded. 

"You told me that, last time, you'd had all that and I still left." She was struggling to get out the words, her face solemn. She couldn't look at him. 

He could feel the blood draining out of his face. His stomach went from dropped to the beginnings of nausea. Across the room, Rhys' head came up, concern clear in his eyes. "I remember," he croaked. Nope, this could not be good. 

"I think I found a way." 

He stared at her, feeling as though he were surrounded by static. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys start towards them. 

"Something we never had before." Her eyes came to meet his squarely. They were calm, glistening with a thin sheen of tears. In a single smooth motion she went gracefully to one knee, extending her hand to him, palm up. "Alec." She smiled, and it trembled at the corners. "Will you marry me?" 

His heart stopped. 

All of the blood rushed back to his head, roaring in his ears. He looked around, testing reality. Rhys was feet away, rooted in shock. 

"Alec." The sound of his name brought his head back around. She was grinning at him now, eyes alight with laughter, and with love. "Will you marry me?" 

He fell to his knees in front of her, taking her hand and pressing it against his chest. "Are you serious?" he asked, still not sure his heart was actually beating yet. "Max... I mean. This is hardly, you know," he gestured helplessly with his free hand. "You." 

"I know." She kissed his cheek. "But it could be both of us. If you ever answer me." 

A small, warm body cannoned into his side, wriggling under his arm. "Is it time, Mom?" 

Max nodded. "You can show him," she said. Noah held out his hand, a silver circle held proudly in the precise centre of his small palm. 

"This is for you," he declared, then amended, "if you want it." 

Alec picked it up, examined it closely. It was a broad-banded ring. The outside was smooth, shining silver. The inside was carefully incised with a single, flowing barcode. Max's and Alec's joined. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

Until he looked up and saw her watching him, eagerness and anxiety warring in her eyes. He shook his head ruefully. Her face fell. "Yes," he said, snapping his hand shut around the ring. He couldn't have prevented the smile spreading across his face if he'd tried. He leaned forward, cupping her face between his open hand and the fist holding the ring. _His_ ring. His lips found hers, and the roaring in his ears returned. 

It took him almost a minute to realise the noise was the crowd. 

He folded her into his arms, cuddling Noah into the circle as well. 

It was... perfect. 

* * *

Johan took a deep breath and looked down at Joshua, so many different things going through his mind he couldn't name them all. His friend was laid out on the gurney, as comfortable as Johan could make him in the cold room. The facility was silent around them, the only light in the building shining brightly above them. It was making Joshua squint, and the cold had him hunkered under the light blanket. 

"Joshua." 

The dog-man turned calm eyes on him. "Johan." 

"Are you absolutely sure? There's no going back here." Johan closed his eyes, pressed the heels of his hands over them. He couldn't _believe_ he'd agreed to do this. 

"Am sure, Johan." A huge hand came from under the blanket and patted his leg in reassurance before retreating into the warmth beneath the cloth. 

"Josh..." Johan shook his head. "Think about it. This was terribly painful for the others. And they were a lot more human than you. I don't..." His voice cracked. "I don't know if I can even guarantee you'll survive." 

Joshua's grip was not at all tentative this time. "I am sure. This is the right thing." His eyes burned into Johan's. 

Johan's mouth firmed, and he deliberately turned on each of the monitors in order before picking up the syringe. He took a deep breath, injected the contents into the IV. He leaned over, placing one hand on the other man's massive shoulder, and spoke directly into his ear. He put all the resolve he'd ever felt into his words. 

"Joshua," he said, "I won't leave you." 

Joshua smiled up at him, eyelids already sagging closed. "I know," he said, and was asleep. 

* * *

Rhys was starting to think the smile on Alec's face was a permanent fixture. It made him happy to see it, and it was irritating as hell. Rhys sighed, made his way to Alec's side. 

"Congratulations," he said softly, interrupting Alec's watching the dancers. Alec turned to him and hugged him. 

"Thanks." His eyes were a little glassy from too much scotch, but he was still sober. 

"You deserve it," Rhys told him sincerely. 

Alec ducked his head, a little embarrassed. "We all do," he said. 

Rhys looked around. "Can we talk a minute?" 

"Sure." Alec led him to the comms room, where the soundproofing provided a level of privacy. 

"Dalton's been reading up on what we got off of the harddrives at the Red's compound where we picked up Zane," Rhys said. "Not enough to recreate the process. Looks like it wasn't where they worked at all. We're going to need to hunt them down." 

Alec nodded slowly. "Is it so bad, being human?" he asked a little forlornly. 

"No." Rhys winced. "And yes. But it isn't about me." He bit his lip. "Dalton thinks, maybe.. if we put them back, the others will be ok again." 

"Others." Alec sighed, recalling the three transgenics whose minds hadn't been able to handle the strain of the procedure, possibly because of the trauma. Also, possibly because of the extent of the rewrite. "Does he really think there is any hope for them?" 

Rhys' lips twisted. "Not really. But any chance is better than none, you know? Plus, there _is_ still me. And the other successful changes. And Zane. Zane wasn't even willing. They deserve a chance to get back to what they were." 

Alec nodded slowly. For the first time in hours, the smile was gone from his face. Rhys missed it already. "That sounds right." 

"Sounds that way to me too." Rhys took a deep breath, braced himself. "Which is why I'm going to be going looking for them." 

Alec stared at him blankly. "What?" 

"I'm going to be looking for them." Rhys said. "When we get a lead, I'll head out to check it out." Max swirled past, dancing energetically. Alec's eyes followed her hungrily, the smile returning as if by magic. Rhys dragged his gaze from her with an effort. "And I think it makes sense if I'm out of town a bit anyway." 

Alec arched a brow, still watching Max. "I think you worry too much." 

"Maybe. But ... I need balance, Alec. I'm never going to find it like this." It came out more like a plea than he'd intended. He strove to return to normalcy. "And it's pretty much what I was doing before anyway." 

Max raced up, grabbing the beer from Alec's hand and taking a long drink. "What are you two being so serious about?" She asked on a laugh. Zane's wave from his seat near the door drew her attention before they could think up a good answer. He pointed down at Noah's dark head cuddled against his leg, then made the sign for 'sleeping' and 'leave'. Max raised a hand in acknowledgement and turned back to them. Her cheeks glowed with exertion. "Zane says it's time for him and Noah to go." She caught Rhys' eyes with a grin. "I'm heading back to the apartment too." 

"I'll go with you," Alec caught her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. She blushed. Rhys fought the urge to turn away, grinned at Alec. 

"I'm going to hang here a while longer," he said, and let them go. 

* * *

The room was dark, except for the light trickling through the opening to the living room. They'd placed the lights on a dimmer so they could monitor Zane's progress and still make it dark enough for Rhys to sleep on the couch. 

Rhys sat in the straight-backed chair. It was uncomfortable. It seemed ever since the procedure had wiped out his feline portion of DNA he just didn't have the same ability to... sprawl as before. 

It was terribly unfair. 

He sighed heavily, wriggled into a position that was marginally less irritating, and tilted his head back against the backrest. He closed his eyes. 

"Haven't we been here before?" Zane's deep voice made him jump. 

"Not here, no." Rhys smiled crookedly but didn't open his eyes. "But definitely in the same kinda vicinity." 

"Here to tell me how wonderful being human is?" 

"No. Fuck, no." Rhys laughed at the absurdity of the idea. "Being human's been quite a bitch for me." 

Zane raised his eyebrows curiously. "Sounds like a story there." 

Rhys described the events of his lapses of control, starting with kissing Max and ending with Zane witnessing him killing Johanssen. Zane was left staring at him, jaw agape. "And that's how Johanssen ended up dead." 

"Damn." Zane was impressed. "Jesus, Rhys. All that? You need a keeper, man!" 

Rhys barked a dark laugh. "I couldn't agree more. But the usual suspects aren't really an option anymore, are they?" He gestured to the living room 'window', where Alec had just whirled Max into a close embrace. Alec's head bent over hers in a deep, meaningful kiss. 

Zane sighed. His blankets rustled as he shifted onto his back. He glanced through the window at Alec and Max, still locked together. They looked as though they could be a while. "They look good together, don't they?" 

"They always have." Rhys eyes were slitted, watching Zane closely. "What are you going to do now?" 

Zane shrugged easily. Rhys noted that the wound in his chest pulled, bursting a stitch. Zane never noticed. "Not sure. Whatever I do, I need to be back in Seattle pretty frequently." 

Rhys lifted an eyebrow, grabbed a gauze pad from the table and passed it to Zane without comment. Zane looked down and hissed in exasperation, pressing the pad against the wound to staunch the small trickle of blood. 

"Damned thing keeps doing that," he growled, then came back to topic. "For Noah. I can't see Max leaving here again, with everything..." he looked away, studied the play of light and dark on the wall. "And I need to keep up with Dalton's work on putting me back." His mouth set stubbornly. "It's important that I get back." 

Rhys rubbed his chin slowly. "I finished the first round assays on you." 

Zane's attention snapped to him. Rhys could feel the weight of those whiskey-dark eyes, intent in Zane's suddenly taut face. "What have you got for me?" 

Rhys scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Well, you're definitely human, I'm sad to say. Physiologically, you're in great shape, except for the implant. Very little change there. The implant will keep you amped up, so you won't notice a change in speed or strength. Psychologically, you're unaffected, except..." He laughed ruefully. "Except the right frontal lobe, where your inhibition centre was re-written." 

Zane looked alarmed. "What will that mean?" 

"Well. In your case? You were almost exclusively feline to start with. Likely explains your loner tendencies and your fundamentally uncooperative nature." Rhys grinned at him. "You're going to be more cautious now. Less likely to go for it, whatever 'it' is. And you're going to be more afraid. More emotional." He sighed, smile fading. "It's going to be an adjustment, but it will be somewhat offset by the implant again." 

"Yeah, that little beauty's turning out to be a real treasure, isn't it?" 

Rhys winced at the bitterness in Zane's voice. His own was dark when he replied. "It has its upsides." 

Zane looked away from the bleakness in Rhys' eyes, obscurely ashamed. "Yeah," he admitted slowly. 

"That one year only lease is a bit of a bitch though." Rhys grinned suddenly. 

Zane gave a startled laugh. "You do cut to the chase these days, don't you?" 

"Nothing new there. But it leads me back to where we started. What are you going to do now?" His eyes drifted to Max wrapped securely in Alec's arms. Zane followed his gaze. 

"I think Max and Alec are going to need some time alone together." He swallowed hard. "For Noah to get used to having him around all the time." 

"To form a family." Rhys said bluntly. 

Zane's mouth compressed. "Yes." 

"Sounds to me like you need a hobby." Rhys wriggled again in his chair, cursing his now all-too-human physiology. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes. 

Zane blinked at the mild suggestion, glanced around the room. "Think this place is going to feel crowded, once Max and Noah actually move in?" 

"Nah," Rhys stretched out his legs. "This place is bigger than it looks. There's always been room for more." 

"Might need to add a room or something." 

"Well, I'll have to fix the wall..." Rhys considered a moment. "But this is my place, man. That's not going to change, even if I leave for a while. Same goes for you, once you're settled in. We share, we leave, we come back, but this is home." 

"Not worried you'll come back and find it taken?" 

Rhys smiled. "No." 

"Huh." Zane snuggled deeper into the covers. He frowned. "I don't think I've ever had any place like that." He grinned wryly. "Except 'where Noah is'." 

"Then you're expanding your horizons." Rhys scratched behind his ear. "We'll work something out. Can't actually have you sleeping in my bed forever. People would talk." He flashed a brilliant grin. "And much as I like you, I just don't think of you that way." Zane gave a startled blurt of laughter. 

"You really do need a keeper." 

"Yeah? Well, _you_ need a hobby." 

They stared at each other in a moment of perfect, crystalline understanding. Zane looked down with a wry smile, then lifted his eyes to Rhys' unwavering gaze and held out his fist, back up. Rhys tapped it with his own without hesitation. 

"Deal?" 

"Deal." 

**-30-**

**Author's Note:**

> Andrews used by the gracious permission of Era.


End file.
